


Rivers and Roads

by angelica



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: A.K.A. slowest burn, AU, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:44:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 77,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelica/pseuds/angelica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver Queen returned back to Starling City after being stranded on an island for five years. Felicity Smoak was recommended to the Queen family as his psychiatrist. Nothing would ever be the same again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for an AU for a while where Felicity became Oliver's psychiatrist when he first returned from the island. This is largely AU, borrowing from plotlines of the show. I haven't written a long fic in a while so this will take a while.
> 
> Title from 'Rivers and Roads' by The Head and The Heart.

 

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

**  
**

** Chapter 1 **

She tilted her head and gave him a look. She was already used to this. Six sessions under her belt, and he was still borrowing from fiction. He wasn’t even trying to use rare examples that she wouldn’t be able to recognize. The first session, it was _Gilligan’s Island_ ; he kept talking about how he tried to build a raft with bamboo he cut down himself and how he worked on fixing the radio he salvaged from the wreckage of the boat. Then it was _Robinson Crusoe_ and he talked about how he caught fish and built himself fire and a shelter.  

She was surprised that it took her actually four sessions to realize what he was doing. She was taking notes on her iPad as usual, nodding occasionally, when she heard him talk about pine trees and mud, contradicting his earlier descriptions of palm trees and pristine beaches. He was explaining in detail the smell of the trees and how he slipped and fell in mud several times a day during his first days before his body got used to it. Then he talked about how he started hunting down small animals to eat with the hatchet he had with himself, and that was when she finally realized. Oliver Queen, the heir to Queen Consolidated, the self-described multimillionaire playboy who had just came back to Starling City after being stranded for five years on an unchartered island, was summarizing _Hatchet_ to her. She had read the book back in high school so her memory was a bit fuzzy, but when he talked about a storm sweeping his shelter away, she was sure.

She lifted her head from her iPad and looked at him. He was lying on his back on the couch, deadpanning the synopsis of the book to her. She took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“Mr. Queen, I think this is enough for today. Next time, please tell me about your own story and not some survival book you read in junior high.”

That seemed to get his attention as he lifted himself and turned to look at her. When she put her glasses back on, she saw something she had never seen before. Oliver Queen was smiling. It seemed to be a genuine smile, not the kind he used to charm her assistant into delaying his appointments or those she saw plastered all over the covers of magazines. She expected him to deny it, or give her some sort of an apology. Instead he stood up, turned on his heel and was gone the next second.

She kept expecting that he would somehow actually open up to her, like he was supposed to, and tell her what really happened during his time on that island, explain to her the causes of the scar tissue that seemed to cover, according to his medical records, 20% of his body, but the very next session, he was talking about how he painted a face on a Wilson-brand volleyball and talked to it. She didn’t even bother continuing the session and asked him to leave.

He didn’t show up for his next two appointments. She had already given up on him when he showed up three weeks later in her office, sat down and talked about what seemed to be the first few episodes of _Lost_. The only details missing from his account were the smoke monster, the polar bear and the Dharma Group. She was sure if she didn’t interrupt him, pleading with him to tell the truth, he would also find ways to incorporate them into his story. She had to give it to him though, he was a good story teller.

“So I told myself, ‘every man for himself’.”

She didn’t mean to, but she snorted trying to hide her laughter. She didn’t know if she was laughing because her most high-profile client was quoting Sawyer to her or because she was trying to replace her anger with amusement. It wasn’t unheard of clients to lie to their psychiatrists to avoid confronting their own issues. As a professional, it bothered her. She really wanted to reach out to her clients and help them, but they weren’t even helping themselves by avoiding the truths. Oliver Queen wasn’t making things easier for himself, and was making it even worse for her.

She was pretty sure it all had to do with her age. Despite what the diplomas covering one section of her office walls showed, she had seen the look on his face when he first stepped in. She was used to it. Even though she had made a name for herself in medical and psychiatrical circles, it was hard to convince her patients. It was rather rare for a patient to accept that a young psychiatrist such as herself would have enough experience to help them with their problems. She thought that Oliver Queen would be an exception.

“And you are now quoting _Lost_. That’s new.”

He stopped and moved into a sitting position on the couch. He looked at the ceiling, then at the floor, and finally at her. He opened his mouth to say something, but he didn’t.

“Mr. Queen, I watched the entirety of _Lost_ twice, went to Comic-Con three times to see the cast, even ran a blog for a couple of years about my theories on the Dharma Initiative and the smoke-monster. You really should stop summarizing the show to me and start telling me about your island.”

“It’s Oliver. Mr. Queen was my father.”

“Right, but he is dead. I mean, he drowned.” she started, then realizing what she said, she paused and cleared her throat. “But you didn’t, which is why you are here so that you could explain to me what happened on that island and I can help you.”

He continued looking at her. That fake smile she was used to seeing was back on his face. “I think we are done here, Dr. Smoak.” He got on his feet. “Thank you for your help.” he said as he walked to her and held out his hand in an attempt to shake hers. She didn’t budge. He then finger-gunned her awkwardly, which she found odd, then turned around and left.

She remained at her seat until she heard her office phone ringing. Her assistant informed her that Oliver Queen canceled all of his remaining appointments. She really wasn’t surprised, and if she had to be honest, she was a bit relieved. She didn’t want to waste any more of her time, and the Queen family’s money, on someone who didn’t take her seriously and who kept lying to her. She would use her time to help those who really needed her help.

She had already forgotten about the whole debacle given her schedule and she was focusing on other patients. One patient in particular was taking the most of her time, telling her stories about his encounters with a man in a dark green leather suit, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, putting arrows in the crooks of Starling City after dark. She had heard stories and news about the vigilante with the bow and arrow, but it wasn’t something she was really interested in.

It wasn’t until after two months that she saw Oliver Queen again. St. Walker’s Hospital, where she used to intern, was throwing a charity ball and she was invited. She really wasn’t the type to attend charity events on her own where the rich and the famous of Starling City would be in attendance in abundance, but her mentor had personally invited her and she wanted to contribute to the hospital.

She was standing at one corner with a glass of red wine in her hands when she met his eyes through the crowd. She immediately looked away and turned around. The next thing she knew, he was walking towards her.

“Dr. Smoak, good seeing you here.” he said as he held out his hand. Out of courtesy, she shook it with her free hand. “I didn’t know you were a charity ball attendee type of a person.”

“I didn’t know you were one, either.” she replied. She didn’t look at him, but looked at the person standing behind him. There was a tall man standing close, looking around discreetly. The suit he was wearing didn’t hide his bulky physique. She figured out he was Oliver Queen’s personal bodyguard, she had heard of her assistant talking about him before.

“So, are you enjoying yourself, Dr. Smoak?” he said. Before she could answer, they were interrupted.

“There you are.” she heard a feminine voice, addressing him. She turned around to see Laurel Lance, whom she recognized from articles about him. “I thought I lost you, they were looking for you for the speech.” Laurel Lance paused and acknowledged her. “I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Laurel, Oliver’s girlfriend.”

He pressed his lips tightly and pulled Laurel close to him. Before she could open her mouth to introduce herself, he spoke. “This is Ms. Smoak. She is working at QC. She was helping me set up the routers at the club.”

She was confused, she gave him a look. Her brows were knitted together, out of her will. She found herself nodding. She didn’t try to correct him in order not to contradict him. She simply smiled and shook hands with her. A second later, he was nudging Laurel Lance towards the direction of the stage and they were gone.  

When she was alone and he showed up at the stage with that smile plastered on his face, she opened her small purse and jotted down under her other notes in her cursive handwriting on her leather-bound notepad: _compulsive liar._


	2. Chapter 2

****

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

**Chapter 2**  
  
Agreeing to attend to therapy sessions wasn’t amongst his plans when he lighted that signal fire with his arrow and found himself on a fisherman’s boat, en route, albeit a long one, home back to Starling City. Five years he had spent on that island. Five years of struggle, of suffering, of survival. He knew every inch of the island like every new scar on his body. He had one goal in his mind that helped him make it through the day. Finally when that day came and he found himself looking at his hometown through the windows of a hospital room, he knew what he had to do. He would right the wrongs of his father and everyone who had failed his city. He would forge himself into a weapon and go after the corrupt to save Starling City.  
  
The doctors who examined his body clicked their teeth and nodded their heads. He didn’t have to be a genius or a psychic to understand what they were thinking. They thought that it was a miracle he was still alive given the broken bones that healed over time, the wounds that left scars. He knew it in his core. It was what made him stronger.  
  
He eavesdropped on his primary doctor telling his mother that 20% of his body was covered in scar tissue, that he wasn’t the same man who left the city on a boat five years ago. He knew what he was. He could still remember in vivid detail every incident that left a scar on him. He could still feel the air, the humidity of Lian Yu on his skin. He still could feel blood on his calloused fingers. When he looked in the mirror, he still could see his long hair tangled in knots, his untamed beard.  
  
What he didn’t know was that his family insisted that he go on therapy sessions to help him ease the trauma of what he went through for five years.  
  
He should have expected it. There was no way it would be acceptable for a person to live a normal life after losing five years – not that he knew what normal meant anymore. If he was honest with himself, he would agree that he was troubled; he had nightmares about the island every night. He was afraid one day he would wake up and find himself back on the island, realizing all of it was a dream, that Lian Yu was his reality and that his life back in Starling City was the dream.  
  
He was just starting his path to become what the city needed to save itself. He had been donning his leather suit and putting arrows and crossing off names from his list for almost two weeks now. He had a bodyguard working under the pretense of being his driver, even though he tried to avoid John Diggle in every chance he got. He was back hanging out with Tommy and was on, at least, talking terms with Laurel. He even had a hideout for his nightly activities and had plans to build a club to cover his tracks.  
  
The last straw that led him straight to a psychiatrist happened when he learned about his best friend and his ex-girlfriend sleeping together after his “death” from his baby sister.  
  
The very next morning, he found himself back at the hospital, sitting next to his mother, listening to his physician as he explained how he was showing the symptoms and that it was very likely that he was suffering from PTSD and that he needed a psychiatrist. His objections fell on deaf ears and the next thing he knew, the doctor was recommending someone called Dr. Smoak to his mother, who was apparently one of the leading psychiatrists in the city in the field. He couldn’t say a thing. He smiled and nodded absently. It was fruitless to go against what the doctor said and it was pointless to further upset his mother.  
  
His first appointment was on a Wednesday. Even though he had been making things hard for him, he obediently sat at the back seat of the town car as Diggle drove him to his psychiatrist. He watched the city around him, quiet during a work day morning. Starling City had changed so much in the five years he was away, but then again, he had too. That was why he wasn't keen on the idea of seeing a psychiatrist. A psychiatrist would try to focus on every detail of his change, trying to go into the depths of his psyche to pry his secrets and he wanted nobody to learn his secrets.  
  
He entered the art-deco building, one of the last remaining of its kind, on the edge of the Glades with his head down, John Diggle following behind him. They took the elevator together and Diggle stood outside, at the corridor as he entered to the waiting room.  
  
“I'm Oliver Queen. I've an appointment.” he introduced himself to the red-haired secretary behind the desk with his trademark smile that was a part of the new persona he shared with the outside world.  
  
The secretary did a double-take. “Of course, Mr. Queen. Dr. Smoak is waiting for you, please go in. You're late though, she doesn't like patients being late.” the secretary said as she got up and walked him towards the door. She knocked on the door and opened it for him.  
  
It was his time to do a double-take. He hadn’t even considered the fact that his psychiatrist would be a woman. From what his doctors told, he assumed the psychiatrist would be a renowned old guy with white, balding hair at the end of his career, the type his family was used to, surrounded by rich mahogany furniture and diplomas. He expected his office would smell of cigarettes and old books and that he would use old words nobody bothered to use anymore.  
  
He was wrong. Before him sat a woman with glasses, her blonde hair tied up in a ponytail, wearing a pink lipstick that matched her pink blouse. She placed her tablet on her desk and met his eyes. She looked younger than him and he found himself astounded. When he thought of a psychiatrist, the mental image conjured in his mind looked nothing like the beautiful woman now standing and walking towards him.  
  
She tilted her head and held out a hand. “You are late.” was the first thing Felicity Smoak said to him, and he later learned that it wouldn't be the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your warm reception to this story! I apologize the delay between chapters because I am writing this as I go and have been quite busy with work.


	3. Chapter 3

 

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

**Chapter 3**

Laurel Lance had always been on his mind. Her photo in his hands had given him hope when he was on the island. Her smile as she waved goodbye to him at the docks while her sister sneaked into the ship haunted him for years. Sometimes he thought that the island was his punishment for treating her wrong, for cheating on her numerous times, the worst with her own sister. She never wavered far from his thoughts.

It wasn’t easy to get Laurel back. Through trial and error, he had managed to get back on speaking terms with her. There would always be a bitterness between them, there would always be words left unsaid that neither wanted to speak. She had pushed him too much despite knowing how he was and he had chickened out too easily. Things would never be the same again between the two of them.

They had too much history, he reasoned. The fact that Laurel had sought solace in his best friend’s arms after his ship sank wasn’t helping either. So they were back to trying to be friends. They had started as friends having met at a charity ball his family was throwing for the police task force. It only felt natural for him to invite her to yet another ball as his friend to support him while he gave a speech, and she was going to go anyway.

He entered the ballroom with Laurel in his arm, her dark blue dress matching his navy suit. Diggle was right behind them, scanning the room just like he was scanning it himself. The large ballroom was full of people dressed in elegant clothes. He looked right and left to see if he could recognize old faces. That was when he spotted his psychiatrist dressed in green, standing alone in a corner, looking around. Even though the charity was held for a circle of psychiatrists, Dr. Smoak looked out of place amongst her peers.

A lot had happened since the last time he saw her. He had canceled all of his appointments with her on a whim because he was tired of lying to her face constantly. There were times he would fail and end up telling her the truth. He would start with a memory from the island, telling her about the raindrops on his face, how the first fire he lighted warmed his hands. Then his lies would bleed into the truths and he would find himself giving her the plot of a TV show he had watched as a kid. It was hard to keep track of what lie he was telling. So when she asked him, in her most sincere voice right after her rambling, to tell her the truth, to share his memories from the island, he got on his feet and left.

Even after five years of hell, he was still the same person deep down. When things got too personal, he ran away instead of facing them. He had done the same thing by deciding to travel to China with his father when Laurel insisted on moving in together, and now he was doing the same thing to his psychiatrist. He was running away from uncovering what he went through on the island and was avoiding the one person who would not actually judge him upon learning the truth, even though it would solely be because of her job description. He knew tonight would be his chance to explain some things to her, or at least apologize to her.

As he walked closer to the crowd, he lost Laurel to some people he knew from his past as socialites and he was pulled from one side to talk to the rich of Starling City and fake enthusiasm. With his smile plastered on his face, he blocked the conversation occurring around him while simultaneously pretending to be an active listener. No matter how much he would try, his heart would never be in the discussion about the quality of the finger foods being served. Years had gone by yet the rich of the city were still the same, discussing how the hospital should be giving better food due to the fact that they were asking for donations. He wanted to make a comment saying the hospital wouldn’t be asking for their money if they were able to afford caviar, but instead he turned around and met her eyes.

She was still in the same place, holding a glass of wine. When their eyes met, she looked away immediately, pretending she didn’t see him. He excused himself from the group he was standing next to and made his way to her, his eyes never leaving her position. He held out his hand to shake hers when he got her attention and she complied, unlike that last time in her office. He was glad. He tried to make small talk, but he realized that she wouldn’t give in easily. She looked at everything but him and seemed to be interested more in Diggle who was standing behind him.

He took his opportunity to examine her just as she had during their sessions. The color of her dress made him smile; he thought of it as his own inner joke. He was pretty sure nobody else knew his association with the color, yet it didn’t stop him from feeling glad that it was a color his psychiatrist approved. Despite how calm and confident she always looked in her office, he could easily read that she wasn’t particularly happy about being at the ball given her fidgeting; she was constantly tapping her middle finger on the stem of the wine glass. He figured she wasn’t the type to attend to charity balls, so he told her.

Just when he assumed she would open up to him given the slight upturn of her pink lips, Laurel found him. She stood close by him, touching his arm and then with a smile she introduced herself as his girlfriend.

Of all the things he would imagine Laurel Lance saying, introducing herself as his girlfriend to someone she just met was the last thing he would expect. They were slowly making their ways back to being friends. She was now Tommy’s girlfriend and the only reason she was there because he had asked her and she wanted to represent CNRI.

What came out from his mouth would later haunt him. “This is Ms. Smoak. She is working at QC. She was helping me set up the routers at the club.”

From the corner of his eyes, he saw the confused look on his therapist’s face and was grateful when she went along with his lie. He dragged Laurel away, using the excuse of the speech he was to give, and left Dr. Smoak alone abruptly. During his speech, he looked at her way, but she was long gone.

“That girl was nice.” Laurel told him as they sat at the back seat, Diggle driving them to Tommy’s apartment. “I’m sorry if I ruined something by introducing myself as your girlfriend, I was just being supportive.”

“It’s fine.” he said through his clenched teeth. He couldn’t decide to whom his anger was directed: Laurel or himself. Laurel had lied saying she was his girlfriend, which was something he didn’t like or understand. On the other hand, he had failed to correct her and instead went on adding another lie when he said his therapist was working in IT in his company. What bothered him the most was why lying to his therapist was bothering him that much given his various earlier lies, but he wouldn’t admit that to himself. “Just don’t tell Tommy you called yourself my girlfriend.”

“Of course.” she replied with a smile. “Thanks for the ride, Ollie. This was nice, we should hang out more.” Laurel said to him outside Tommy’s door.

Tommy opened the door just when he was hugging her goodbye. “Thanks for leaving her off, Ollie. For a second I thought you were never going to ring the doorbell. I’ve been standing behind the door for ages.”

“Thanks for letting her coming with me.”

“I’m here, guys. Stop talking on behalf of me.” Laurel broke into their conversation. Tommy had his arm around her shoulders and the two of them together caused an emotion in him he couldn’t clearly define. Seeing her yawn, he said goodbye to them and got back to the backseat.

He sighed as he got into the car. He asked to be driven home. He starting untying his bow-tie as Diggle started the car. “We’ll go to Dr. Smoak’s office tomorrow.” he told Diggle and leaned back. He still had apologizing to do, but deep down he knew the real reason he wanted to see her was because Felicity Smoak would be the person to define his emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support! I promise I'll update sooner and pick up the pace.
> 
> BTW - how amazing was tonight's episode?


	4. Chapter 4

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

**Chapter 4**

“Talk to me about anything you like.”

Oliver Queen raised his head, turned and looked at her. “Is it really necessary that I lie here? Can’t I sit at the chair?”

She was taken aback. She had had numerous patients during her time as a psychiatrist but nobody had actually suggested to sit down facing her. “Sure, sit wherever you feel most comfortable.” she gave a quick reply.

He got on his feet, straightened his leather jacket and took a seat at the armchair facing her desk. “This is better.” he said, looking at her. “No more island talk?” he asked and she shook her head in response. “Very well, then.” He placed his palms on the table. After a few seconds of silence, which she took for pensiveness, he started. “I can talk about technology. When I left, touch screens were a rare commodity and now they are everywhere.”

She pursed her lips, trying to hide her grin. As someone who deeply loved technology and its developments, she found it rather amusing that Oliver Queen would choose it as a subject to talk to her about. It was true, during the five years he lived away from modern life on a remote island, a lot of things had progressed. “It must be difficult for you to get accustomed. Netflix’s online streaming didn’t exist five years ago. Now, I don’t know what I’d do without it.”

“What is that?”

“Are you serious?” she asked him, but there was no change on his stoic face. “Um, it’s basically like Blockbuster, but instead of going to a store to rent stuff and then pay heavy fees because you didn’t return them on time, you just watch stuff online for a monthly fee. You get to watch ‘Lost’ whenever you want. I can’t believe I am explaining this to you.”

“It is really appreciated.” he said as he moved towards her desk and picked up her pink pen, hidden amongst the black ones in her pencil holder. “You seem to like technology.”

“I’m good with computers, yes.” she nodded in response. “But we are here to talk about you. Tell me something.” she said, but got no response. “Tell me about your sister.”

He leaned back in his seat and started playing with the pen in his hands. “Well, she is a teenager now.”

She smiled. “She was around 12 when you –”she paused, unsure how to phrase it. “The last time you saw her.”

“She was interested in her dolls back then. Now it’s boys and alcohol.” he scoffed. “She would chase me all around the house, she would drive me insane. I called her Speedy. Once I found her hidden at the backseat when Tommy and I were going to a party. She would wear her hair in pig-tails, she would have bruises all over her legs from running around the mansion. She was quite the tomboy. Now she is…” he paused to gather his thoughts. “She is a woman now. It’s hard to accept.”

“Do you regret missing out on her growth?”

He put the pen back in the holder. “Of course.” His tone was direct. “I should have been there. I should have been the big brother she needed.”

“It was out of yours hands.” she suggested. “Unless you were on that island on purpose. Which I am sure you weren’t. I don’t think anybody would be into staying on that island willingly.”

He was smirking, which she found interesting. One thing she had observed about Oliver Queen during their newly resumed sessions was that he had a limited range of facial expressions. He usually looked sullen and serious, or just without any expression at all, but sometimes, some rare times, something would break through his façade and bring a different expression to his face. She liked that.

“I wouldn’t recommend that island to anyone.”

“You should write a review about that island on Trip Advisor, suggesting that it isn’t family friendly and that the facilities are horrible.”

“Maybe I should.” he said, looking right at her. His looks carried an intensity that made her almost uncomfortable.

“How do you feel about your mother’s new marriage?” She decided to change the subject. “You knew Walter before. Do you feel like he breached some trust between the two of you, or between your father and him by marrying your mother?” She was back to her business tone.

He sighed. “When I first met Walter, I was 19. He came to pick me up from the police station after bailing me out. Tommy and I had done something stupid again, got ourselves in trouble. I don’t even remember what it was. My father was too busy, and rather sick of my juvenile actions, so he sent Walter instead. To be honest, I didn’t make a good impression on him, rather because I was drunk and angry. I remember shouting at him for some stupid reason and I was sure he hated my guts. I guess you can never get back a first impression, can you?”

“I rather believe in seeing the best in people and getting to know them. I hardly ever judge people on that first impression.” she offered, hoping he would hear the honesty in her voice.

“I wish I could believe that, too. I feel… it’s like when I meet people, it’s hard for me to avoid their judgment because my name travels faster than I do. In case you don’t know, Oliver Queen means spoiled playboy in this city.”

She leaned forward in her chair, started shaking her head. “I don’t believe that.” she started, her voice coming out louder than she intended. “I think at one point in your life, it was true. You clung to your fame and fortune and didn’t care about anything or anyone else. I think that was easy, you didn’t care about responsibilities. Then the island happened and I believe you changed.” She paused to catch her breath. “I think you use that misleading perception as an excuse to avoid questions about what happened on that island and how it changed you. I think you find it easy, to keep that spoiled playboy image. I think you’d rather have people think that you’ll go pee on the next cop than open up to someone.” She saw him raise an eyebrow in question. “What? I read about you.” she said, in her defense. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

He just stared at her and opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“If you get up and leave now, I won’t accept you back again as a patient despite how gorgeous the flowers you bring are. The ones you brought before are beautiful, I took them home.”

“I won’t leave.” he said. “I know I was asked to see a psychiatrist to open up and talk about things, but I don’t think I’m ready. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready.”

She nodded. “I know it’s hard. That’s why I am here. I’m here to listen.”

“I appreciate it.” he said, his lips forming a thin line. She tried her best to avoid eye contact.

“Well, you are paying me 250 bucks an hour to listen, so that’s the least I can do.” she said, then mentally wanted to kick herself. Yet when she saw him smile a real smile, she thought her lame attempt at a joke was worth it. “You got to let someone in at some point. You might as well start with someone you are already paying to help you.”


	5. Chapter 5

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

** Chapter 5 **

He figured it was a subconscious thing. After all, for the last couple of months, it was what they had been trying to do; trying to dig into his subconscious. When he woke up from his dreams, which were mostly nightmares or memories from the island, he would try his best to remember each detail and write them down on a leather-bound journal with invisible ink.

For someone who had been living his life according to plans he had made on the island, it didn’t take him long to realize that there were things he couldn’t plan beforehand. There were pieces on his chessboard that he couldn’t control. No matter how hard he tried, when the time came, he ended up sharing his secret with John Diggle. He blamed his psychiatrist. After all, it was her who suggested that he needed to let someone in, someone he was already paying to help him. If asked, he would argue that her words were branded in his subconscious mind.

He wasn’t expecting anything less than shock and resentment when he pulled his hood up and revealed his face to his bodyguard and John Diggle did not disappoint. His face told everything. Later when he would think on it, he would accept that anybody in Diggle’s shoes would have given the same reaction.

His decision to out his secret to Diggle did not happen overnight. He had spent weeks observing him, examining their interactions, watching how he reacted to things. He also spent days over his computers, looking into his past. He learned about his military background and stumbled upon what happened to his brother. He thought he could use that as a leverage, as he himself knew very well that family ties and seeking out revenge were strong feelings.

Diggle did not disappoint him with the way he reacted but he also proved to him the importance of background research. To trust someone now, he needed to know everything about them before deciding whether they’d be a reliable asset for him in the future.

The online searches followed right after that. Typing his psychiatrist’s name into search engines on the internet quickly became his preferred pastime when he found the time. Photos from various meetings and conventions she attended to popped up on his screen. She was a speaker in one photo, addressing a large meeting room, her hair in a ponytail, wearing a dark suit which contrasted with what she usually wore at their sessions. In another one, she was wearing a white lab-coat in what seemed to be a hospital room. At least fifteen articles written by her showed up, harboring technical terms he didn't quite understand. Her bio posted all over medical sites seemed to be copies of one another, underlining how she was the youngest psychiatrist in Starling City in her field of study. He knew, and was reassured by his family practitioner, that she was smart, but seeing with his own eyes that she already held a PhD degree at the age of twenty-five convinced him to the fullest extent. Felicity Smoak was practically a genius. Yet regardless of all the information he had on hand, he still wanted to know more.  
  
It started out innocently when he decided to follow her red car on his motorcycle after their session one day. She was a careful driver, stopping at all the lights and signs where appropriate, never going above the speed limit which rather frustrated him. After following her for more than ten minutes, he gave up and decided to go back to the mansion.  
  
The next time, he gave up after she stopped to pick up some Chinese food fifteen minutes away from her office and almost spotted him. He was standing next to his motorcycle when she got out of the restaurant with a bag and paused, looking at where he was standing across the street, then shook her head and drove off.      
   
Then one night when he felt that he needed to clear his head after injuring himself quite badly trying to fight of five henchmen at the same time, he drove to her street in the suburbs, a twenty minute ride from her office, and turned off the engine before her townhouse. It was just another two-story in a row of houses with a porch. He didn't see her red car parked, but the lights were on with the plain-looking curtains tightly closed so he took off his helmet and just watched in full concentration.  
  
"You have been looking at the wrong window for the last hour."  
  
Despite being always aware of his surroundings, he was startled upon hearing a voice directed at him. He turned his head and was rather, for a lack of better term, shocked to see his psychiatrist standing before him in a purple coat over what seemed to be pajamas. "Dr. Smoak." he managed to say, not trusting his voice.  
  
"I moved across the street a week ago. I didn't have time to go to DMV to get my address updated, just so you know, in case you did a search."  
  
He shook his head, trying to slur over. "What? No. I wasn’t." he started, then paused. He stood up and looked at her. "My friend Laurel lives in this neighborhood."  
  
"Oh really?" She crossed her arms over her chest, tilted her head to one side. "I lived here for three years and I know everyone in the neighborhood. I didn’t know there was a termite problem in my old house, but it’s neither here nor there. I don't think I've ever seen your girlfriend here before."  
  
He knew lying more wasn't going to save him. He should have known that she wouldn't buy them in the first place. He turned to look at the place she had pointed out earlier and saw her car parked outside then mentally scolded himself for not checking it in the first place. A wary smile surfaced on his lips. "Nice neighborhood. Do you know how much the rent is around here?"  
  
She laughed despite herself and shoved her hands into her coat's pockets. "Good night, Mr. Queen. I'll see you on Wednesday."    
  
He thought that he would walk her to her house, but instead she just ignored him, turned on her heels and moved away from him. He put his helmet on and started the engine. As he drove past, he saw her standing on her porch decorated with potted flowers, watching him. He blasted the engine on when he got off the residential area, going over the speed limit and threw himself to the shower when he arrived at the mansion.  
  
He knocked on the door and entered before hearing the permission when he arrived at her office for their session on Wednesday. Her back was turned towards him and she was reaching up for a book on the top shelf of her bookcase. He stood at the doorway for a moment, watching her stand on tiptoes, her feet bare. She hopped and gave a few tries while scoffing. In long-legged strides, he came next to her and reached out for the book.  
  
"Fuck." she shouted when their hands touched. Up until that second, he hadn't realized that she was wearing headphones and didn't hear him enter; nor that she had a tendency to curse. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to curse. I didn't hear you, and I wasn't expecting someone to just get the book for me." she said quickly, taking off her headphones. "You are tall. I - I noticed. Not because I was ogling at you or anything, I'm just stating out a fact." she paused and breathed. "You are tall. The sky is blue."    
  
"And you aren't wearing any shoes." he stated, nodding towards her feet.  
  
"I was just freeing my feet from the five-inch jail they were in while waiting for you. I don't have a weird habit of going barefoot. Not that you needed to know that. And usually I can reach and grab books on my own, but I guess the added five inches were helping there, right?" She took the book from his hands. She sat down on her chair and leaned down, what he presumed, to put her shoes back on. "So, tell me something."  
  
He took his seat opposite to her desk. "I took your advice. I opened up to someone. Sort of."  
  
"Ah, that's great." she said. He couldn't help but notice that she was beaming. "Does following me around town have something to do with that?" He didn't know how to react to her directness so he remained silent. She leaned back against her chair. "I understand that you really don't like to talk about things." she started, her voice soft. "I don't blame you, I can only imagine what you went through during those five years and probably talking about the island means reliving it and you don't want that. I just want you to know that I'm trying to help." She was looking right at him with a slight smile. "If you ever need to tell someone about your day, you can tell me. And it's not limited to our sessions, though it’s better if you didn't wait outside my house to do so. You can just call me or whatever."  
  
"I appreciate that." he said with a smile, and he really did appreciate it.  
  
"Talking about the past will help. Think of it like a bow and arrow." she said, garnering his full attention. "For an arrow to move forward, it needs to go back on the bow. Or whatever the technical term is. Archery is stupid, I don’t know what I’m talking about."  
  
He was a bit offended about her comment on archery, but he didn't show it. For someone who was so familiar with a bow and arrow, he had never thought about how relevant it was in life. For him a bow and an arrow were means to survive and fight, not a metaphor for life.

He had certain truths in his life: his family mattered, his friends mattered and it was hard to trust people after all he had been through. He was trying to right the wrongs of his father and other people who corrupted his city with his bow and arrows. He kept his nightly activities from his daily life. He had a club to run. He was trying to open up to people - Diggle was the first step. He was allowing in room for things he couldn’t control. He had a reputation to keep up with as Oliver Queen and a reputation to build as the Hood. He knew that anyone who connected the Hood to him would react in the most negative ways. Which is why Felicity Smoak shocked him once again when she found out his identity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support. So I guess things are finally picking up?
> 
> Last week's episode kind of ruined my headcannon of Felicity living in an apartment so this now reflects that from the cannon of the show (and I'll also use that as an excuse for the delay in writing this). Please leave a comment if you read!!


	6. Chapter 6

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

** Chapter 6 **

Her twenty-one year old self had a point, she reasoned in hindsight. It was never a good idea to go clubbing and she was proven right again. It was just against her nature, she had grown to accept. She didn’t like the idea of wearing tight clothes to expose herself to go to a dark place full of strangers, with no room to breathe or move, unable to hear anything but an annoying music with the loudest of bass coming from the speakers, but she hadn’t been out in months and she definitely needed some alcohol in her system after the week she had, listening to her patient obsessed with the vigilante nicknamed The Hood session after session.

She was surprised to receive a message from her assistant informing her that Gina Petrelli had called when she came back from lunch on Thursday. Right after her session ended, she picked up the phone. Only after hanging up on Gina that she realized what she had agreed to do, but it was too late to cancel. She would go home after her latest patient on Friday and change clothes, then meet Gina and her roommates to go to a happy hour, only to go to their house to get ready for the night.

She had met Gina during her junior year as an undergrad when they were roommates for a month before Gina decided to move in with her boyfriend she had been dating only for two months. Gina was fun and full of life and since her parents were paying for her tuition, she didn’t mind spending every night out, not caring about her studies. Felicity Smoak had missed only one exam in her life, and that was during the month she spent as Gina’s roommate. She had been able to keep her scholarship after basically begging to her professor to allow her to take the exam later, but she had learned one important lesson: she would never step into a club ever again.

Then there she was, waiting in a line outside Club Verdant, watching Gina trying to charm the bouncer into letting them inside. The short dress Gina made her wear was not covering her against the chill of the night no matter how many times she shuffled and pulled the edges of the thin material down her legs in an attempt to warm herself. She was grateful that she had had the sense to grab her bomber jacket before leaving her house.

She was thinking about her last summer, spent in Italy, hoping the memories of the sunny streets and the feeling of the warm breeze on her skin would help her warm a little when suddenly two of the bouncers came next to them.

“Ladies, please follow us.”

They gave looks to one another in confusion and curiosity as they followed the bouncers through the red-velvet ropes and into the club. There had been already some twenty people before them in line but their IDs weren’t even checked and the bouncers left after bringing them to the VIP section.

“What did just happen?” Gina shouted in her ear as they sat on the comfy couch, sipping the drinks that came out of thin air.

“I have no idea.” Felicity shouted back, shaking her head in accompaniment to make sure Gina understood her through the noise. Through the dimness and the blinking lights of the dance floor, and wishing she had her glasses on instead of her contacts since she believed the glasses made things easier for her, she looked around to see that they were the only group sitting in the VIP section. Exactly a minute later, it dawned on her why they were let in when she saw her patient walking towards her, wearing a crisp white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled.

She immediately got on her feet and walked towards him, getting out of the VIP section before Gina or the others could make a comment. As their eyes met, she suddenly felt self-conscious about the dress she was wearing, given that ever since they met each other, she had always been in her professional clothes ranging from the usual pencil skirts and shirts to business-style dresses. She always had the slightest bit of make-up, hidden behind her glasses. She felt that all of their professional, psychiatrist-patient relationship was thrown away the second Gina dragged her out in that dress. Then again, she figured that she should have known better than agreeing to go to the club her patient owned.

“I guess you are the one I should be thanking to.” she told him when they stood before one another. She realized he hadn't heard her when he stepped into her personal space and leaned towards her. She ended up repeating herself into his ear.

He nodded. “I saw you from the security cameras.” he answered, his mouth directly next to her ear, his breath tickling her neck. She tried ignoring their proximity. “I didn’t think you were a clubber.”

“I’m not.” she shouted. “I really hate clubs. I’m not trying to offend you or anything because obviously you like them since you own one. I just don’t like them. They are loud and dark and expensive. I appreciate the free drinks you sent us though. I think you sent them? I’m not sure actually, anybody could have sent them. I’m not trying to assume that you are that gentleman from the bar, you know, like that ‘compliments of the gentleman from the bar’ thing, not that I don’t think you are a gentleman.” she paused. “Okay, I’m going to shut up now.”

He was laughing. Oliver Queen was genuinely laughing. She couldn’t hear him laugh actually, but the way his face was relaxed with his mouth open wide and how his head bobbled made her smile. From the corner of her eye, she saw his bodyguard standing behind them. He followed her eyes and saw his bodyguard, then looked at her. Stepping once more into her personal space, he leaned in and excused himself. Just before she left to go back to her group, he came back. “I’m really sorry Dr. Smoak, but something came up. I’ll see you on Wednesday?”

She nodded with a smile and watched as he disappeared into the crowd. When she went back to their seat at the VIP section, she saw that only one of the roommates, the one she didn’t talk to before was remaining. “Where are the others?” she shouted, only to watch the roommate, whose name she actually didn’t know, point to the bar. She followed her finger and saw Gina and the other two girls talking to a group of guys.

She scoffed and gulped down the drink that appeared to come out of nowhere. The music was too loud, the blinking lights were about to give her a migraine, her friend had ditched her for cute guys, not that she blamed her. From her past experiences, she actually wasn’t expecting any less from Gina and her education told her that Gina's nature was the kind that would not change.

Taking one final look around, she got on her feet, grabbed the jacket she had discarded on the seat and moved to leave. She thought Gina or at least her roommate that was left at the VIP area would come to stop her, but then she was out already, looking for a cab and nobody followed her.

Given it was a Friday night and she was outside the most popular club in town, she thought there would be cabs lining up outside, but there were none. She scolded herself for leaving her car outside Gina’s building and agreeing to get a ride from her. She should have known what the night would bring given her previous experiences with Gina: she would either be left behind or become the designated driver.

She called a cab company but was told that the earliest car would arrive in thirty minutes. She couldn’t wait half an hour in her heels in the cold. For a second she thought about going back in and waiting on Gina and the others, but then made up her mind to walk to the main street only a few blocks away and try her chance at finding a cab there even though she knew it wasn’t the best idea in the world to be walking alone in Glades after dark.

She walked in steady steps, checking around in discretion without lifting her head to be aware of her surroundings. The street seemed to be empty, the only sound audible was her heels clicking on the pavement. She could see the main street’s lights from an alleyway that seemed to cut through the block. Wrapping her jacket around herself even tighter on impulse, she walked faster.

My twenty-one year old self had a point, she thought to herself when she heard those four words only steps away from the main street.

“Give me your purse.”

She stopped dead at her tracks, a chill suddenly taking over her entire body. Even though she analyzed emotions and human actions for a living, for a second, she didn’t know how to feel or act. It felt like her limbs had a mind of their own as she held her arms up in surrender and turned around. She never thought she would ever see the barrel of a gun, but there she was, facing the end of one. “Please.” The word came out of her mouth in a way she didn’t know how to describe. She couldn’t fathom if she was pleading or simply saying something out to have her voice heard.

Her would-be assailant stood rigid and shorter than her ten feet away, holding his gun with one hand and motioning her to walk to him with his other. “Give me your purse.” he repeated, his voice disguised by the ski mask over his head.

“Please.” She found herself saying once again as she stepped closer to him in small steps. Her tiny purse didn’t hold anything of value except from her cell-phone and the keys of a car parked outside a building miles away. Thoughts ran through her head. One idea was to run since she was so close to the main street, but she didn’t want to cause any trouble and put herself in danger. The man repeated his four words in an urgency.

The other four words she heard changed everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and for your support. I love reading comments so do leave me one!  
> As you might have noticed, I am kind of doing a 'she said/he said' thing with these chapters so even though the previous chapter said that Felicity found out Oliver's secret, you will see it in the next chapter...


	7. Chapter 7

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

**Chapter 7**  
  
"Leave that woman alone."

It came as a roar. She didn't see to whom the voice belonged, but she could see the fear reflected on her assailant’s face. His hand holding the gun started shaking. She thought it'd be a good time to try run but her legs didn't seem to move. Instead, she found an arm holding her and the next second, her back was pressed against a chest, an arm wrapped on her neck and the gun she hated to look at now resting on her temple. She had talked to people who had been in such situations. Her training had taught her what to do. She had helped people recover.

As she stood there, unable to move, she felt like nothing she knew had ever prepared her for the real thing. She felt utter terror for the first time in her life. The cold metal against her temple made her forget all about the cold she was feeling earlier. Tears stung on the corner of her eyes. Then she saw him. He stepped through the shadows and she realized what her patient had been telling her about him had all been false.  
  
He stood before them, tall and impressive, dressed in green leather so dark it almost looked black. He had a hood covering his head and over his eyes, leaving a shadow over the rest of his face that made it impossible to see his features. He was pointing an arrow at them and while she thought archery was stupid, it was still deathly, but somehow his weapon of choice made her feel safe. Or maybe she felt safe because the arrow was not actually aimed at her but at her assailant who was still holding the gun against her temple, threatening her life.  
  
"I'll shoot her." said the guy behind her. She whimpered and struggled against him. She could feel his body shake behind her, but he didn't budge.  
  
"Okay, easy." The words spilled from her mouth, aimed at her assailant. "You don't wanna hurt me, and you sure don't want an arrow in you." she said in a soft voice, her negotiation skills coming in place at once. "Nobody needs to get hurt. Just let me go and he'll leave you alone." She looked at the Hood. "You won't hurt him if he lets me go, right?"  
  
Even though she didn't know him and he didn't know her, she wanted the Hood to cooperate so that the three of them would leave that alley without a scratch. Knowing the Hood's repertoire, both from news and from her patient obsessed with him, she thought her chances to get through him and allow him to let a criminal go away unharmed were slim to none. Yet she hoped he saw the look of understanding on her face. When he lowered his bow, she knew she succeeded.    
  
"So, I'm going to count to three and you are going to lower your gun and let me go, and Mr. Hood here won't hurt you." she said. She took a deep breath. "One. Two."  
  
Before she could even say three, the alleyway shook with a loud bang and the unfamiliar noise coming from an arrow hitting its target. The arms holding her were no longer in the same place. She was pushed by a force so sudden and strong that she lost her balance and had to find her footing. On instinct she covered her head with her hands and gave herself a second to catch her breath before examining what exactly happened.

She opened her eyes and saw that the Hood was standing only a step away from her, while her assailant was on the ground, wailing in pain.

“We need to get away from here.” The Hood’s voice broke her momentary absentmindedness. “Come on.” He put a hesitant hand on her shoulder.

She jerked away immediately. “You shot him!” she shouted. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Well, he shot me, too.” he grunted.

She hadn’t notice that he had his hand on his shoulder, holding it there tightly. “You’re shot.” she muttered, her hand going over her mouth, walking towards him in shaky steps.

“It is nothing.” he breathed. “Let’s go Dr. Smoak.”

She halted right before him and wrapped her arms around herself. “How do you know my name?” she asked, her eyebrows knit together. That question changed everything.

“Because you know mine.” he said and lifted the hood covering his face. She felt her blood freeze in her veins. The green paint over his eyes did not hide his identity. Oliver Queen, her patient stood before her.

“Everything about you just became so clear. Sort of.”

“Come on.” He held out his gloved hand and she took it, following him through the darkness. She could hear sirens as they rushed through other alleyways and darkened streets until she realized they were back at the club she had left. With one arm he pushed a trash can that revealed a door and opened it, nodding her to enter through. Just when they entered inside and he closed the door behind them, he collapsed on the floor.

“Oliver.” She was kneeling next to him in the dark on instinct before she even acknowledged what was happening.

“The keypad.” he pointed to a small box with glowing buttons. He muttered four consecutive numbers, which she thought didn’t make a good passcode, and she entered them then heard the click coming from yet another hidden door. “Diggle is downstairs.”

Taking off her heels and leaving them next to Oliver Queen, she pushed the heavy door and ran down the metal stairs leading to a darkened room. The rest of the night was a whirlwind as she faced yet another gun due to Diggle being on alert at a stranger entering their secret lair, helped him pull out the bullet from Oliver’s shoulder and had a scare when Oliver passed out and failed to wake up.

Three hours later, she was sitting at a chair before a desk featuring not the best of technology in computers, Diggle’s over-sized jacket covering her body, staring at the bloodstain on her hands. She thought about how she needed some time alone to really think about the night’s events as she listened to the beeping noise the heart monitor made.

“How long have you known?” She revolved around in her chair.

John Diggle walked towards her. “Only a couple of weeks.” he answered as he stood next to her. “He just revealed himself one night. Before that, he kept feeding me lies and tried to trick me every chance he got.”

“He is a chronic liar.” she nodded. “Not that I should be discussing with you now. Doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“You don’t have to discuss what I already know. He has trust issues. God knows what he went through on that island.”

“Yeah. Five years on an island, away from everything and everyone he loves.” She got up on her feet and walked towards the metal operating table he was currently lying on in the impromptu medical bay. She couldn’t help but eye the scars covering his body. She had read about them in his medical files, but seeing them with her own eyes made them real. They revealed that he was not alone on that island, given that they didn’t look self-inflicted. She wondered when he would ever be ready to talk about the terrors he faced there. The fact that he trusted her enough to reveal his biggest secret gave her hope that he would be willing to talk about his lost five years. “Why did you decide to join him?” She turned back and asked Diggle.

“Because a soldier always helps another soldier.” he replied, looking down at the floor. “I don’t necessarily agree with his methods, but I understand what he is doing and it needs to be done. This city needs someone like him, someone to save it from itself.”

“You were a soldier?”

“I was. I served three tours in Afghanistan.” he answered.

“Then you can understand what he is going through.”

“He needs someone to keep him grounded.” John Diggle looked at her, then at the unconscious body of Oliver Queen. “I’ve been where he is. It’s hard. And he is trying hard to hide it.” he paused, turning to look at her. “I think you are helping him a lot, too. He changed since he started going to your sessions.”

“I don’t think I am doing a good job.” she admitted. “Here I’m in his secret lair, his blood on my hands, wearing your jacket.” She got on her feet and walked towards the display of various arrows. She picked one up and twirled it in her hands, feeling the cold of the metal against her skin. Just one of them had saved her life only a few hours ago. “Does anyone else know?”

Before Diggle could answer, they were interrupted by a moan coming from the other end of the room. They both rushed to his side, to find him awake and looking at them through bleary eyes. “I guess I didn’t die. Again.”

“How are you feeling?” Felicity asked out of concern, not hearing the laugh of relief coming from Diggle. She hesitated to put a hand on his forehead to check whether he had fever, but kept her hands to her sides instead.

He hissed in pain as he tried to lift himself up. John reached out to help him then covered him with a blanket. “I’ve been better.” he replied. “Thank you, Dr. Smoak.” he held out his hand.

She looked at the hand he was offering then at him. “You are welcome.” she said as she put her small hand into his much larger one. “It’s Felicity. I think we are beyond formalities now that I have your blood on my hands. Literally.” He gave her a weak smile. “I should be going. I have errands to run early in the morning tomorrow.”

“Let me give you a ride.” Diggle offered. “I wouldn’t want you to go around dark alleys once again.”

“That would be great.” she answered. “I will see you Monday.” she said to Oliver.

“I thought our sessions were on Wednesdays?”

“Yes, but this whole night… I think we need an emergency session.” she tried to explain. “I think this saved us from at least three awkward sessions, though.”

He was smiling, holding the gray blanket tighter. “Is that your medical opinion?”

She looked at him, rather surprised that he still was able to make jokes given the state he was in. She smiled despite herself. “No.” she replied, trying the repress the smile from getting bigger, and saw his face drop. “At least four sessions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I received one comment that kind of made me change the way I look at the story (and kind of left me disheartened to be honest), but it is back and I finally have an idea where I am going. Hope you like it! Leave me a comment!


	8. Chapter 8

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

** Chapter 8 **

His shoulder winced as he got out of the car. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath for a moment as he stood outside the building. Despite John’s insistence, he had foregone taking painkillers. It hadn’t even been deep, but his new wound that was a new addition to his collection of scars hurt every time he moved. He wanted to spend the day in bed for a change, but he had an appointment he couldn’t miss, especially after everything that happened.

Diggle didn’t follow him into the building, remaining in the car. Ever since they became partners, he was now more trusting and not following him everywhere, which Oliver appreciated. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy Diggle’s presence; it was more of the fact that sometimes he just needed a breather away from his persona as Oliver Queen, the billionaire who needed a bodyguard whereas he could disarm anyone with a fist or a paperclip with ease.

He took the stairs to the fifth floor office instead of the elevator and entered into the office. The waiting room was empty and the secretary who spent most of her time in his presence trying to flirt with him was nowhere to be seen. He walked around, looking at the plants and took a seat at the leather couch he had his eye on from earlier.

“Oliver.”

He got up and walked towards Dr. Smoak who had just stepped out from her office into the waiting area, holding a book. She had her hair in its usual ponytail and he, for a second, thought about how different she looked on Friday night. “Dr. Smoak.” he greeted her but when he saw her tilt her head, he corrected himself. “Felicity.”

“Thanks for coming in so early. I realized I forgot to tell you the time. I didn’t know what my schedule was like. Then again, I never really know it. I don’t have many patients on Mondays. I guess people don’t want to talk about their feelings first thing in the week.” she paused. “Go inside, I’ll be there in a sec.” she pointed towards her office.

He walked in and took his regular seat before her desk and looked around while he waited her arrival. The dark wooden bookcase featured a number of hardcovers books, ranging in colors, and topics rather unfamiliar to him. On one of the below shelves, he spotted a framed photo of a brunette girl in a graduation cap, holding something in her hand with a smile on her face, only to realize that it was Felicity herself. She looked different with dark brown hair and without glasses, but the smile on her face was the same. His mind called up the blurry vision of her looking down at him with concern and then a smile when he came to himself lying on that cold, metal table. His desire was to take a closer look at the photo, but just as he attempted to get on his feet, she entered the room.

“Sorry about that, I needed my coffee.” she said as she walked past him and took her seat at her desk. “Here.” She handed him a mug. “My assistant arrives late on Mondays so I have to deal with the coffee on my own.”

“Thank you.” He took a sip. “This is really good.”

“Coffee is one of my life’s simple luxuries.” she beamed. “How is the shoulder?”

“It has seen better days.” He placed his hand on where the wound was.

“I can prescribe you something to help with the pain, if you like.”

“No, thank you.” he replied. “I’m very particular about what is that I put in my body.”

“I’ve… noticed.” she said, then clamped a hand on her mouth. “I said not noticed, right?” He burst out laughing. “Hey, don’t laugh! I don’t talk like myself when I am around you.” she protested. “Which is actually why I called for this emergency session.”

The seriousness of her face, as opposed to the momentary embarrassment, made him stop laughing and clear his throat to get back into business mode. Even though the woman sitting opposite to him knew his biggest secret and was his reluctant confidante, she still was his psychiatrist on official terms and that required a level of seriousness and professionalism. “Oh, okay.”

“So…” She took a breath. “About last Friday.”

“Should I be the one to do the talking?” he asked, sounding unsure of himself.

“We didn’t make the news.” she claimed before he could continue. He looked puzzled. “I checked all the newspapers and the internet and there was no mention of an inappropriately dressed blonde being saved by the Hood.” That garnered a small smirk from him. She pursed her lips. “I am glad you revealed yourself to me. I said it explained, it being you being the Hood, a lot of things and I was being truthful.” she paused, looking directly at him. “Oliver, this is your way of dealing with everything that happened to you on that island. I don’t know much and you are carefully avoiding everything about it and I’m not sure if you will ever be ready to talk. I just want you to know that I understand. I understand perfectly.” He had his head bowed down but was looking at her without breaking any contact. “This is your version of survivor’s guilt. You lost your father on that island and spent five years doing god knows what, and you suffered, you suffered a lot and now you are back. I think you are going after the corrupt of the city and helping the helpless because you feel guilty you survived the shipwreck and the island while others couldn’t. To be honest, this is quite an extreme case of survivor’s guilt, but it means at least you are dealing with it.”

She paused for a moment to watch him. He remained in the same position and looked ashamed. He had nothing to be ashamed for, in her opinion, but she deducted that it was because she was probably the first person ever since he got back to tell the facts directly to his face. It wasn’t uncommon for patients to look shameful or confused during self-reflection.

“You also have PTSD, obviously. It doesn’t require a PhD degree to tell that. The nightmares you have, that one time you woke up with your hands around your mom’s neck? These are all signs of it. But Oliver, when I saw you in that costume that night, holding that bow, I never saw you more in control.” She shook her head from one side to the other. “Over the time I’ve known you, I’ve witnessed you slipping from persona to persona.” That seemed to gain his attention as his body language suggested denial. “Oliver, don’t deny it. We talked about it before. You play this billionaire playboy persona to the outside world because that’s how you want them to see you so that they won’t be suspicious of you.”

“I’m not denying it.” he said, his tone low.

“Good.” she nodded. “Because I think that being the vigilante is somehow therapeutic for you, even though you…” she paused, not wanting to use the word ‘kill’, trying to find another way to define his actions. “You have a way of dealing with the corrupt in the city that not everyone agrees with and it is against the laws. You could be imprisoned for the rest of your life if the police ever caught you.” He looked at her, his lips closed tightly. “I’m not saying that I am against what you are doing. You are surviving. You are fighting the evil in this city even if that means sacrificing yourself. You saved me, you saved my life. I – I still don’t know how to thank you for that.”

“And you saved my life.” he muttered. “Digg told me that I lost a lot of blood and that you helped him a lot.”

“I did what I had to do.” She took a deep breath and looked away from him. She exhaled as she leaned back on her chair, twirling to one side slightly to ease the sudden anxiety building up inside of her. She was about to do that one thing she didn’t like about her job, one thing she had only done one other time so far in her career. “I can’t continue being your psychiatrist.”

Oliver Queen jumped on his feet, a reaction she hadn’t expected. He clenched his fists and placed them to his side. “Why? I know I haven’t been the best patient but I am willing to try.”

“Oliver, this isn’t because of that. This has nothing to do with you missing your sessions or avoiding talking about the island.” She also got on her feet, took a hesitant step towards him. “We are supposed to have a specific type of a relationship in this office. There is a line drawn between what I need to know and don’t and how we should act. I’m afraid that line has been crossed now.” She moved closer to him. “I don’t think I’m doing a good job with you.”

“I don’t believe that.” he said, looking down to her face.

“I don’t know if you are trying to compliment me or trying to make me change my mind, but it’s not gonna work. Oliver, I know your biggest secret. It would have been okay if you confided it in me during one of our sessions but the way I learned it, it makes things complicated. I shouldn’t have gone to your club. You shouldn’t have seen me dressed the way I was. I shouldn’t have been at that alleyway.”

“Do you regret that you know… what I am?”

“No.” she immediately protested, lifting her hands. “You are who you are, Oliver Queen, not a thing. Your nighttime activities actually make it easier for me to understand many things about you.” She turned her attention to that painting she had bought for her office with the first paycheck she had ever received from a patient, a painting depicting a woman with her back turned, looking over a meadow. “I am not good for you as a psychiatrist.” She felt him stand behind her. “I can recommend someone else. Someone who can actually help.”

“I was told you were the best with this.”

She sighed as she turned on her heels slowly. “Apparently I wasn’t. I thought I was, but you never know how you are at something unless you fail, right? I mean, you are pretty good with bows and arrows and randomly showing up in unexpected places, but I guess that has something to do with what you do? I’d like to think you had some practice on the island. I saw the muscles. The abs.” She stopped. “I didn’t mean to say that. See, you make me… babble. I don’t usually do that. I used to do that a lot. Then I became a psychiatrist and stopped it.”

“Is that the reason you are dropping me as a patient? Because I make you babble?”

She wanted to admit that it was a part of it, but she didn’t want to make it about herself. “No.” she argued. “It is because you have PTSD and you need the best care. You need somebody you can talk with easily, to help with the nightmares, with the constant burden you put on your own shoulders. I- I…” she stammered. “I don’t think you are getting the necessary help from me. I will recommend you to my peer, he has vast experience with war veterans and grief counseling, he will be able to help you.” She stepped away from him and moved to her desk. She opened up her tablet and looked through her contacts. “This is his number. I’ll call him and say you’ll be seeing him. Promise me you’ll go see him.”

He looked at her, defeated. His lips were in a thin line. “I promise.” he gave in.

“Thank you.” she smiled at him. “Your secret is safe with me, I won’t tell it to anyone. I promise you. I mean technically everything I know about you is guarded by patient-doctor confidentiality.”

“I appreciate it.” he said as he grabbed the paper she had written Dr. Alberto’s information.

She looked at the piece of paper in his hand. She picked up her pen once again and scribbled down. “And this is my number.” she said, handing it over. “I’m not giving you my number because I want you to ask me out or something. I’m not trying to imply anything. That would be unethical.” she smiled nervously. “If you ever need to tell someone about your day, you can tell me. I’m just a phone call away.” She looked and met his eyes. “Just because I can’t be your psychiatrist doesn’t mean I can’t be your friend. If you are okay with it. I’m not forcing you to be friends with me.”

He smiled at her and nodded. He was gone the next second. She stared at the now open door long after he was gone, then walked over to waiting room to see if her assistant was around.

“I didn’t know Mr. Queen had an appointment.” Eleanor said, looking over at her from her computer.

“It was unscheduled.” she replied. “It was his last.” she added and walked back in her office. The rest of her week was uneventful as she went through her usual patients.

It was a thumping that woke her up. She grabbed her glasses from her night stand and looked around. Her room was in the same state as she went to bed. She ignored the noise, took her glasses off and laid down, ready to go back to sleep, but the noise returned. Jumping on her feet, she picked her discarded cardigan from the floor, put her glasses back on and tried to figure out where the voice was coming from. When she was out of her bedroom, she realized it was coming from downstairs.

Through the darkness, she found the staircase and slowly made her way down the stairs, holding the railing tightly. She unlocked her front door and looked out but couldn’t see anyone. It was when she got back inside and walked towards her patio door that she saw a silhouette. She reached out and slowly picked up her umbrella on the floor, raising it, ready to attack any moment. In careful steps, she walked towards the silhouette.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Felicity.” came the deep voice.

Oliver Queen in his vigilante costume was standing in her living room. She dropped the umbrella and walked to him. “You could have rang the bell or at least given me a call.” she said. “Are you okay?”

He turned towards her and placed his bow on her couch. “Yes.” he breathed. “I just wanted to talk to someone.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “When I told you could call me anytime, I meant it as actually calling me anytime, not showing up in my house in the middle of the night.” she said with a hint of sarcasm. “So, tell me.”

It was the beginning of something else.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your wonderful comments from the last update, I really appreciate it. I finally, finally know how I am heading out with this story so hopefully the updates won't be taking as long as they do now.
> 
> In other news, how amazing was that finale? These two are going to be the end of me, I don't know how I am going to make it until October. Talk to me about it! 
> 
> I video-chatted with my friends for over 2 hours about it and I still have so much to talk about. He meant every word of what he said in the Mansion. There is nothing that would ever convince me otherwise. I think it was their plan to use Felicity as the bait so he was gonna drop her there and they were going to argue a bit to make it look realistic. I think the main idea was to leave Felicity vulnerable and alone, left behind as the one remaining member of Team Arrow, one that Slade had never interacted with. Then Felicity started arguing and the consequences of what might happen hit Oliver. I think he just wanted her to know how he felt in case anything happened to either of them, because the risk was too big, and if they made it both alive, he could just easily say that it was an act. I just loved it.
> 
> I have too many feelings, I'm sorry.
> 
> By the way, I'm 'fulltimeprocrastinator' on tumblr.


	9. Chapter 9

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

**  
**

** Chapter 9 **

He knew for sure: that pair of looks was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

Putting his suit on to reluctantly accompany his mother to yet another charity event, he had no idea how the night would end with him breaking into Felicity’s house just to talk to her.

Diggle drove his mother, his sister and him. Sitting at the backseat of the town car, in between the two ladies of his family, he watched the lights of the city pass by. Thea was silent, which he found surprising but also understandable from the loud voices he had heard earlier in the living room, his mother using her disappointed tone over the fact that Thea wanted to bring her boyfriend to the event. Given the side of city he was from, he understood why his mother was reluctant about the presence of the boy he himself had the chance to meet once when he saved his life from a deranged serial killer. If he had known Roy before, he wouldn’t let him near Thea, but knowing how he spent his nights in the Glades trying to help others, much like he himself did, he wasn’t one to talk. Instead he supported his sister’s new relationship the way he knew the best: by not talking about it.

He spotted Laurel in the arms of his best friend by the bar when he let go off his mother’s arm to allow her to mingle with the crowd. If he was honest, he would admit that he still wasn’t used to the idea of Laurel and Tommy being together. He had spent five years with the idea of Laurel in the depths of his mind, giving him hope and a reason to go back to his city. Yet as he watched her laugh with real joy written on her face over something that Tommy whispered in her ear, he knew that it was best if he let them be together. He had given nothing but suffering to Laurel over the years they had known each other and she deserved all the happiness, and so did his best friend. He had never seen Tommy smiling more genuinely than he did with her in his arm.

He gestured the bartender to give him a whiskey and walked towards his friends. “The prodigal son returns.” Tommy greeted him with a smile. “It’s like we never see you if it weren’t for these fancy events.”

“I’ve been busy.” he replied as he greeted Laurel with a peck on the cheek. “Apparently you can miss a lot when you spend five years stranded on an island. It takes longer to catch up. Did you know that there is now a thing called Netflix?” he asked, remembering his conversation with Felicity from months ago.

“You really need a lesson in current events.” Tommy offered. “Being technologically challenged isn’t a good look with ladies, I hear.”

Laurel was smiling at their bickering. “Are you alone here tonight, Ollie?” she asked, looking at the crowd behind him.

“I’m here with my sister and mother.” he replied, then nodded towards Digg standing behind them. “And him.”

“I don’t know if it is really cool or scary that you have a bodyguard.” Tommy said. “Does he follow you to the bathroom?”

Oliver grinned. “Not as often as before. We are good now.”

“That’s good, Ollie.” Laurel started. “Since you and Tommy got kidnapped, I really think you need a bodyguard. I insist that Tommy should get some security, too, but he never listens to me.”

Tommy snickered. “I feel like that Hood guy is my protector. He did save my ass once, why not again?”

“He is a killer, you don’t want him anywhere near you.” Laurel offered, dismissing what Tommy said with her hands.

Oliver tried to fake a grin, not knowing how else to react. In that very moment, as if on cue, the constant sounds of chattering all around the ballroom was cut out by gunshots.

On impulse he turned around to see where the sound was coming from. He saw Digg reaching out to his gun from the corner of his eyes, close to the entrance of the room. Going into his survival mode, he placed his hands on both Tommy’s and Laurel’s shoulders and guided them behind the bar. The ballroom shook with sounds of screams and glass shattering. Once they were safe, crouching behind the bar, he made a move to leave.

“Ollie, where are you going?” Laurel held his wrist, with concern written on her face.

“I need to find my mom and sister.” he lied and left the two of them. He saw Tommy sheltering them both by holding Laurel tightly against his chest and he knew he was doing the right thing. His eyes searched for John in the panicked crowd and saw him standing next to one of the emergency exits and ran towards him, knowing the assailants were still not in the main room yet and he still had time to gear up.

He followed Diggle down the stairs towards the parked town car. Diggle opened up the trunk for him where his extra suit, bow and quiver were hidden at a compartment and he was out of his tux into his suit in minutes, running back to ballroom. With careful steps he walked into the room, his bow up high, reflexes intact. He crouched and moved using the wall as his guide. He disarmed a man in a black ski mask holding a machine gun, a member of the group in quick moves at one corner of the room then moved to a second one.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Diggle help his sister and mother up and carefully lead them to safety. Just as he was about to leave the room, Oliver nodded his head towards him and Diggle tipped his head in return and walked out. He was now left in the ballroom with three… four… five assailants. He checked his surroundings, strategizing for his next move, looking for quick hideouts before he went after the gunmen.

Upon seeing him in the middle of the room, the men in ski masks started shooting at him, their bullets missing their target and instead blasting the large chandelier that lighted the ballroom, bringing shards of glass to the parquet floors, creating more noise than harm. Oliver ran and jumped behind a railing first and then under a table.

He waited for a second to catch his breath while the bullets stopped and listened carefully. He could hear movement around the room and the distinct sound of machine guns being reloaded. He took that as an opportunity to get out from where he was hidden under the table and shoot his arrows. In four deft moves, the arrows landed into the chests of four of the henchmen but the fifth one started running before he could pick his fifth arrow. He followed him with his eyes from where he stood and saw him pick a gun from the floor. The last remaining henchman then started shooting at him blindly.

He took his time, taking cover behind a pillar, waiting for the perfect timing. It came when the bullets stopped. He stepped out from behind the pillar and with one arrow, the last henchmen was on the floor. He looked around for any other people holding a gun but all the assailants were down, the ballroom was silent.

He walked on broken glass. There was a haze of smoke still in the room, residue of the bullets and the chandelier now on the dance floor. The room was only lighted by the candles on the tables that somehow remained intact and a light coming from behind the bar. He looked towards the bar and remembered that his friends were still there.

He ran to the bar and found Tommy and Laurel in the same position he left them, holding onto each other. It was Laurel who noticed him as he stood next to them, his head bowed down. “He’s been shot.” she whimpered.

He felt blood rushing to his head as he kneeled down and revisited the scene before him. A stray bullet had found his best friend. Laurel was holding Tommy who had held his own shoulder tightly, his hand stained with his own blood. He placed his hand on top of his friend’s hand, pushing it so that it could help stop the bleeding. He tapped on his voice modulator. “I’ll find a first aid kit.” he said and left them momentarily as he walked around in swift moves and located a kit adjacent to the fire exit.

“The police will be here soon, you should go.” Laurel said to him as he handed her a gauze.

“We need to stop the bleeding before it gets worse.” he answered with his head down. “Trust me.”

It was Tommy who looked up at him, his face pale and in agony. “Why should I trust you?” he whimpered.

For the rest of his life, Oliver Queen would go back in his mind to relive that moment, a moment where he made a decision that would change everything, a decision that would make him stop living in the shadow of his past life, accept things as they were and move on. His mind was blank and when he would think about that moment, he wouldn’t come up with a reason why he made that decision. He would be given a reasoning about it later on.

He tapped his voice modulator, turning it off, spoke with his own voice. “Because you always have. Both of you.” His voice was silent as he uncovered his hood and looked at his friends, letting them see him for what he really was, uncovering his biggest secret.

Tommy and Laurel looked at him. He had never had a large vocabulary to define emotions, but as he crouched next to them, his face open for them to see, he could describe the identical look on their faces as a mix of shock, disbelief and most importantly, of disgust. They didn’t say anything to him, they just looked and then looked away from him, holding each other tightly. He wanted to say something. He opened his mouth, no words came and at that exact moment, he heard the undisputable, familiar noises of sirens. He grabbed his bow, placed his hood back, gave the couple a final look who didn’t return it and ran away.

He ran upstairs and made it to the roof, then jumped to the next one. He ran on rooftops above the streets until his feet started hurting. When he finally stopped, he realized he was already miles away from the hotel the ball was held at and that he was close to suburbs. He wanted to call Diggle to ask him to pick him up, but he didn’t know what to tell him. How could he ever tell anyone that his best friends in life would never want for him to be in their lives again, he wouldn’t know. Then he remembered there was still someone in his life who would want to listen to him despite everything that happened.

He looked at his surroundings, trying to decipher exactly what part of town he was in. A street sign suggested, from his estimations, that he was only ten minutes away from her apartment, even less if he ran. He couldn’t just run in that area in his costume though, so he decided to take the route through the woods instead. Twenty minutes later, he was standing in her backyard, closing the wooden, creaky yard door behind him.

The garden was small but well-manicured, featuring a couple of patio loungers and, from what he could make out in the darkness, a kiddie pool. He moved with slow steps, keeping close to the tall, wooden fence that separated her yard from her neighbors’ yards and made it to the patio door. He looked around for signs of an alarm but there was none and the door was unlocked. Making a mental note about warning her against the dangers of unlocked doors, he pushed the door sideways and stepped inside.

The room was dark, the house was silent. He closed the door behind him and walked, inadvertently hitting a book that was for some reason in the middle of the floor. The book made a loud thump as it hit against the wall. He hissed under his breath, angry at himself for making noise, but then he registered that she was probably asleep, given the time and he needed her awake. He stood in his place and listened to hesitant footsteps making the floor above him creak then coming down the stairs. She was standing in the dark before him a moment later, holding an umbrella, ready to attack.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Felicity.” he said, his voice sounding deeper than he intended.

As she registered his presence, she dropped the umbrella and walked closer to him. “You could have rang the bell or at least given me a call.” she said, a hint of annoyance in her tone. She then softened. “Are you okay?”

He placed his bow on her couch, taking in her appearance in the dark. “Yes.” he muttered under his breath. “I just wanted to talk to someone.” he admitted, knowing very well that everything was changing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who said they'd update soon and took over a month to do so? Sorry about the delay, real life came in between. Hope you guys enjoy it.
> 
> I'm 'fulltimeprocrastinator' on tumblr, by the way.


	10. Chapter 10

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

**Chapter 10**

She pulled her cardigan around her and sank into her couch, right next to where he put his bow. “What happened?” she asked, motioning him to sit at the armchair next to the couch. The vigilante of Starling City was in her living room, his hood still covering his face. She tried not to think much about it.

He was fidgeting, tapping his foot, looking at everywhere but her. The clock on the LCD displayer of her Blu-ray player suggested that it was 3 in the morning. Oliver Queen was in her living room, obviously upset over something that he wanted to talk to her about, but he wasn’t talking. She knew that she had to pry words out of his mouth. She pushed her glasses and got on her feet. She took a step and stood before him, moved her head so that she was in his eye level. Keeping her eyes focused on his, without blinking, without breaking the eye contact she managed to form, she raised her hands and lowered his hood with slow movements.

He stood before her, motionless, his cover gone. In the darkness of the room, she still could make out the dark paint over his eyes that helped cover his identity only briefly but not his emotions. Even though he had always been the one disguising his emotions, slipping from one persona to another during the time she had known him, he was now open and silent before her. He looked upset, an emotion she never thought she would see him express and she wanted to know the reason behind it.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” she whispered and rushed to her kitchen. She grabbed her kitchen towel, wetted it, then grabbed a bottle of water from her refrigerator and went back to him. He was still in the same position, his shoulders slouched, his foot still tapping. She left the bottle of water on the coffee table and reached for him. “I’m going to clean your paint, okay?” she asked slowly, waiting for his permission. His eyes bore into hers and he nodded. Taking her cue, she dabbed the wet cloth over his face, cleaning the paint off. She then used the dry part of the cloth to dry his face. The same Oliver Queen she had grown to know was now before her, devoid of all his masks.  

“Thank you.” he finally said, his voice as low as a whisper.

She threw the cloth on the coffee table on their side. “Sure.” she said. “What happened?” she repeated.

He sighed and sank into the armchair. “Tommy and Laurel know.” he finally said, his eyes focused on the arm of the couch where she sat.

“Oh.” was her initial reaction. From the way he was acting, she figured the reveal hadn’t gone well. “I’m sorry, Oliver.” she offered.

He gave her a half smile in appreciation. She knew what had happened before he brought himself to tell her. “Tommy was shot.” He managed to say. Even though his reason to come to her was to talk, the words just weren’t coming. He appreciated the fact that she wasn’t pushing, but was just sitting with concern on her face, in her pajama shorts and bare feet. He sighed and leaned back on the armchair, rubbing his fingertips against the soft fabric. “These gunmen came to the charity ball we were at, starting shooting around. I disarmed them but Tommy was shot by a stray bullet. I tried helping him, but he refused.” he said. “I thought I could help, gaining his trust. Guess I was wrong.”

“So you took off your hood, didn’t you?” she asked just to confirm what she already knew. She saw him nod his head in the darkness. “Oliver, they were shocked. Tommy was hurt. They weren’t thinking straight.”

He wanted to believe her. She was talking in her honest, friendly tone, not the professional one she would use during their sessions. He knew her to be the one person in his life now who would listen and understand him without any judgment or lies. He tried his best to believe her, but as he closed his eyes, a flash of both Tommy and Laurel’s faces appeared and all he was left with was disbelief. They would never forgive him. They would never want to talk to him. He no longer had two best friends. He was a disappointment.

“Oliver, look at me.” Her soft voice disrupted his train of thoughts. He turned his head and saw her leaning towards him, looking directly into his eyes. “I don’t know everything about your life. I didn’t know the person you were before the island. Sure, I read stuff about you, you had quite an exciting life in the spotlights. I mean, peeing on a cop? That was all over the news for weeks.” she paused. “I read things about you, but I didn’t know you. Here you are, five years later, after spending those years on an island where things happened to you that you refuse to tell me, or anyone.” She reached out and placed her hand on his. “I saw the scars. I didn’t mean to, I told Diggle I didn’t want to see you abs… I mean, scars.” She stopped herself again. “You were bleeding and we had to remove your jacket. I saw your scars. Those aren’t self-imposed. You were tortured.” she said matter-of-factly. “You were bruised and battered. Your medical file said that your body was twenty percent scar tissue so I knew what I was up against, but seeing them with my own eyes…” She took a deep breath. “Oliver, even without that knowledge, I would have known you had changed. Five years is a long time. People change. I am not the same person I was five years ago. Hell, you aren’t the same guy I walked into my office late for his first session months ago.” He felt her clasp his hand, her soft skin radiating warmth. “If your friends, your family don’t see that, they are the ones at fault. They can’t expect you to be the same person that stepped on that boat. They should know better.”

Oliver didn’t know then, but it was exactly what he needed to hear. He had spent five years on an island, doing things he didn’t want anyone else to know about in order to survive, to live, to get back to his city to save it, to keep his promise to his father. He was no longer that naïve, self-centered boy who got on a boat to run away from his responsibilities, chasing the next thrill, who was then left alone, barely alive on a raft, not knowing whether he would make it through the night in the storm, scared for his life next to his dead father.

There was only one truth on Lian Yu: kill or be killed. He had committed numerous acts of the former. He was alive, back in his hometown with the terrors of the island behind, trying to keep his promises. He was alive, sitting in the dark with the hood he wore to honor the life of his mentor on his back, on a couch next to his former therapist who seemed to be the only one left to really understand him without really knowing him. She trusted him even though he had given her all the reasons not to. Trust didn’t come easy for Oliver, not anymore, but as he sat there, with her hand covering his, he knew that he could trust Felicity Smoak with his life.

“You really believe that?” he asked, his voice faltering. “I know I changed, but I don’t think it has been for the good. The Oliver Queen that went on that boat… he wouldn’t even harm anyone physically. Now… you know what I do.”

She sat straight, taking her hand away. “I do. And I told you, I understand why you do what you do.”

“Yet others don’t.” he said and took a deep breath. “I have these dreams where I fight the Hood.” he started, admitting something he didn’t even want to admit to himself. “The Hood usually wins and I just lay there, drowning in my own blood, unable to do anything.” He heard her gasp. “I feel like I am fighting a helpless fight. I try to keep my promise to my dad, but I end up failing and failing him.”

Her eyes were cast downwards. “Your dad would be proud of you.”

He had a hard time believing that. “You didn’t know Robert Queen. I was a constant failure for him.”

“I knew him.” she said in a soft tone, almost as low as a whisper.

He looked at her, his eyebrows raising. “You knew my father?” he asked, his voice sounding accusingly without intention.

“I met him once. I mean, it was years ago, I probably wasn’t on his mind 24/7. I don’t think he had me in his last thoughts. He probably wouldn’t have remembered me if he were still here. But he isn’t here, he died. I mean, he drowned.” she started and clasped a hand over her mouth. “Here I go again. I just say the worst things, don’t I?”

“Felicity.”

“Sorry.” she quickly apologized for her previous words. “Your dad was a nice man. He, um, he gave me a scholarship.” she admitted. “He chose me amongst hundreds of applicants. I received the scholarship anonymously but I was able to figure out where the money was coming from. So I sent a letter, thanking the benefactor. One day I received a phone call telling me that Robert Queen wanted to take me out for lunch. I didn’t believe it of course. I hang up, thinking it was a silly prank. Then he showed up in a limo at my campus. He had all the paperwork ready to make me believe.”

“I had no idea.” Oliver said.

“Apparently he did this with a student every year. I mean, the scholarship, not taking unassuming girls to lunch in a limo.” she explained. “That was a month before, you know.” she said and he immediately knew what she was referring to. “After his… demise, Queen Consolidated kept paying for my scholarship. That’s why I never charged you while you were my patient.”

“You never charged me?”

“Why would I charge a patient whose family put me through medical school?” she asked, rhetorically. “I owe your family. I did offer my services to your family to deal with loss after I graduated but I was told it wasn’t necessary. Then I got creative and called your family physician. I convinced him to make me your therapist when you got back. The guy owed me a favor. Long story, I got him out of a parking ticket. Huh, I guess it’s not that long.”

He listened to her intently, trying to make sense of the new information. She had blackmailed his family physician to become his therapist. “You… you tricked our family physician to become my therapist?”

“Is that judgment I’m hearing?” she asked, sounding unsure of herself unlike her general disposition.

“No. I’m just surprised.” he admitted. He was genuinely baffled. “I just…” he paused. “You knew my dad.”

“I met him only one afternoon.” she said. “It was just lunch. It wasn’t like we were best buddies or would have long, meaningful phone talks every night. He took me out for lunch and we talked. And oh yeah, he paid for my insanely pricey tuition. Well, your family did. So thanks, by association.”

“You are welcome.” he replied, a half grin appearing on his face despite himself. He looked at her and saw her smiling shyly. He then took in her appearance, for what felt like the first time since he stepped inside the townhouse. Her blonde hair he was used to seeing in a tight ponytail was down, messy curls running down her shoulders. She was wearing a light cardigan over what seemed to be a tank top, with pajama shorts, her legs bare for him to see. He looked away immediately when he realized what he was doing.

“You are displaying the exact opposite of the emotions I thought you’d be right now.” She interrupted his thoughts. “I just confessed to you that I tricked myself into your life, and you are taking it all so well.”

“Felicity.” he sighed her name. “You offered to help me before you even knew me, and after knowing that there are things I won’t share with you, after knowing who I am, you’re still here. I don’t think you did a bad thing. I’m not the person to judge a person for doing a bad thing, given what I do on a daily basis.” he paused. “You are remarkable.”

“Thank you for remarking on that.” she answered shyly. “It was why I had to stop being your therapist. I don’t mean being remarkable. I don’t think I am remarkable.” she hesitated. “I had to stop being your therapist because I wasn’t doing a good job at it and I knew you needed someone better. I felt bad knowing that I got in the way of you getting better care just so that I could pay off some obligation I felt towards your family. Not that I think having you as my patient was an obligation. I quite enjoyed it. I enjoy this more, though. I mean, I don’t know what exactly this is, but, you know, this thing out of the office, without the formality. It feels… easier.”

He nodded in agreement. “You were sleeping, weren’t you? I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” she shrugged, wrapping her cardigan tightly around herself. “It’s not like every night I have the city’s vigilante visiting me. I don’t mind it.” She sank into the couch, curling her legs underneath herself. She couldn’t help but let out a yawn.

“Thank you, Felicity.” he said as he got into a similar position on the armchair. When he turned his head to look at the digital clock display, he was surprised to see that he had been in her house for more than an hour. He was in a much better state than he had been in when he first entered through the porch door, the thoughts about his friends were now a hazy memory.

They sat down in silence for a while. He closed his eyes and tried to enjoy it. He realized that ever since he had boarded Queen’s Gambit, he had scarce time to just sit down in silence and appreciate it. He had been running against time for years. Even if he somehow did find the time, he had always been alone. Now, he was in the living room of Felicity Smoak, feeling warm and at peace, sitting in silence, listening to her breathing slowing down. He then realized she had fallen asleep. He watched her with her cheek perched on her shoulder, her legs still under her, her eyes closed, her hair fallen over her face. With slow, careful movements, he stood and walked over her. He took her glasses off and placed them on the coffee table. He then couldn’t help but tuck her hair behind her ears, enjoying the brief sensation of the soft hair against his fingertips.

He picked up his bow, gave her a final look and with a smile, turned around and disappeared into the darkness of the city outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many thanks for still reading even though i am terrible with updating! comments are always very much appreciated.  
> i was supposed to update last weekend but then ended up writing a one-shot. go ahead and check that out, too.
> 
> i'm fulltimeprocrastinator on tumblr.


	11. Chapter 11

 

 

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

** Chapter 11 **

Noah Alberto was the leading, unprecedented therapist in Starling City, specializing in trauma, PTSD and various other issues related to loss. The academia worshipped the ground he walked on, he received at least a dozen requests daily to give classes in leading universities or speeches at international conferences. His papers were translated into various languages and published in tens of countries. If there was a superstar in the field of psychiatry, it was him. He was her mentor. He was also Oliver Queen’s new therapist ever since she stopped seeing him professionally.

She stood before his townhouse which hosted his home office on a chilly Monday morning. She was holding her hand out to ring the bell when the door was opened. She smiled at his housekeeper who had been with him and his family for half a century now.

“Dr. Smoak, what a surprise! Please come in.” the elderly man stepped back to let her in. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“Hi, Mr. Carter.” she said as he greeted the man with a kiss on his cheek. “I was in the neighborhood.” she lied. “Is Professor Alberto home?”

“You know how he feels about Mondays.” Mr. Carter commented as he walked her towards the staircase. “He is in his office. I’ll announce your arrival.” he added and left her in the parlor. She looked around while she waited. Everything looked the same as the first time she had stepped into the house some seven years ago as an eager intern too excited about the prospect of meeting her idol. Everyone knew of Professor Noah in her circles and it was known to be a privilege to be in his vicinity, being accepted into his house was something of even higher value. She still looked around in amazement, taking in the various portraits and landscape paintings that brightened the expansive room with its wooden panels and expensive furniture.

“Felicity.” came the familiar voice from the top of the stairs. She was greeted with the smile she was fond of when she lifted her head. “What a nice surprise! Come up.” he motioned her.

She walked up the stairs, running her hands over the coolness of the railing as usual. She met him at the top of the stairs and walked into his welcoming arms, enjoying his well-known bear hug. Those were the same arms that had enveloped her when she had picked up her diploma when her mother was nowhere in sight. The same arms that had given her hope when she needed it the most. She took in his usual smell of clove cigarettes, cherished the warmth his worn-out sweater gave.

He led her to his office she had been to maybe hundreds of time. The walls were covered with shelves of books and dozens of diplomas in golden frames. The rich mahogany furniture still smelled of old cigarettes. There were two mugs on his desk which she knew them to be of dark, bitter coffee. She took her seat at the dark red leather armchair opposite to his desk. “How have you been, professor?” she asked when he sat down. She took her time to study his wrinkled face, his white hair balding further.

“I’m good, my dear. How about you?”

“I’m good, too.” she replied. “I was in the neighborhood, sorry if I interrupted anything.”

“No apology necessary, you know how I feel about Mondays.” he said. “You are always welcome here, no matter what.” he added. “Your old patient was here last Friday.”

“Who?” she asked even though she knew very well who he was referring to.

“Oliver Queen.” he answered. “You were right to drop him as a patient, he is a hopeless case.”

In all the years she had known Professor Alberto, it was the first time she had heard him talk about a patient in such a manner. He was the one person she knew who always believed in the goodness of the human condition and thought everyone had the potential to succeed. He never had said that a patient was a hopeless case, no matter what. Amongst his patients were people who had butchered families or had suffered years of abuse and he still thought they had hope. “How so?” she asked, in disbelief.

“He is shallow, inside and out.” he sighed. “He is self-centered. He claims he was on an island by himself all those years, but I believe he is lying. He probably was too busy partying and womanizing, away from the spotlight then decided to come back when he got tired or spent all his money.”

She could not believe her ears. Her mentor, the one person she had learned from the most, was a hundred percent wrong in his analysis. She wouldn't even know where to start to explain how wrong he was. He was also breaching doctor-patient confidentiality.

“He is just another spoiled brat. He has no depth. I have more interesting conversations with six year olds. I’m just wasting my time with him, but I need the money. It’s also good to have the Queen family name in references.”

She swallowed nervously. She had trusted Professor Alberto, his teachings and techniques all these years, but here he was, unable to see the exterior Oliver Queen faked through his teeth. Oliver had come to Professor Alberto on her request, probably sat at the same armchair she was sitting and lied, using his charming billionaire playboy persona to get away with the session, paying hundreds of dollars per hour out of his pocket. The man her mentor was talking about was not the same man she had learned about, not the same man who had showed up in her house in the middle of the night, upset about her friends, not the same man she had spent the last few weeks talking on the phone almost every day.

She didn’t know who made her angrier: Oliver, for lying to his therapist for weeks just like he had done first with her or her mentor, for failing to see through Oliver’s lies.

“You dodged a bullet with that one, Felicity.”

“Oh, yeah.” she mumbled, trying to cover her true emotions about the situation. “He was a tough case.”

“Not really.” he dismissed her. “He is as empty as this mug.” He picked up one of his mugs. “Do you want some coffee?”

“I should actually be going.” she said, getting on her feet. “I have a patient at 1.”

“I thought you didn’t get any appointments on Mondays.” Professor Alberto raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“Special case.” she shrugged, passing off the comment. “It was wonderful seeing you, Noah.” She walked over him and gave him a half-hearted hug, unlike the one they shared earlier. “I’d better get going. I know where the door is.” She turned around and rushed down the stairs, then out of the house before she could even say goodbye to Mr. Carter.

She was turning the corner of the block seconds later. She paused to catch her breath, still reeling over the disappointment she felt. She fished through her purse and located her cell phone. She went through her contacts and found the number she was looking for. The call was answered after one ring.

“Felicity?”

“You promised me.” The words came out from her mouth before any conventional salutation did.

“What?”

“Oliver.” she breathed. “When I told you to go see another therapist, you promised me you would. I thought we had an agreement.”

“I am seeing the therapist you recommended.” he answered, his tone stoic.

She sighed as she walked. “So explain to me why he described you basically as a pain in his ass?”

“He wasn’t that off with his diagnosis.”

“Oliver.” she repeated his name in warning, disregarding the looks she received from bystanders. “Why are you lying to him? He is trying to help you.”

“He isn’t being very helpful if he goes around talking about our sessions.”

She didn’t react to what he said, given it was true. “I want you to get the help you need. You aren’t helping yourself if you aren’t telling things and paying hundreds of dollars for lying your ass off.”

“Becoming friends made you vulgar.” he said instead. She couldn’t help but snort. “Felicity, I appreciate your concern, but…” he paused. “Dr. Alberto might be great and exceptional in his field, but sitting in a room smelling of old cigarettes, receiving wry looks and listening to him swallow phlegm don’t make me want to open up to him.”

“I can talk to him, if you like.” she offered as she reached her parked car.

“I don’t need you to.”

“Okay, it’s your time and your family’s money you are wasting.” she caved in as she entered her car. She was angry. “I gotta go now, I’m driving.”

“Want to meet for lunch?” he asked, taking her by surprise. “I was going to meet Diggle for lunch, you are more than welcome to join. We can talk about this face to face, if you like.”

Her hand was unable to put in the car key to turn the engine. “Um… sure.” she replied hesitantly. At her third attempt, the key was in. “Where?”

“I’ll text you the address.” he told her. “I’ll see you in half an hour, then?”

She nodded but realized he wouldn’t be able to see that, obviously. “Yes.”

In less than fifteen minutes, she was parked in front of her office building, thankful that she was able to avoid the traffic. She checked her phone to see Oliver’s text message, asking her to meet them at the Big Belly Burger a few blocks away. Knowing she would be able to walk to the restaurant in less than ten minutes, she went up to her office and changed her flats to her black patent leather pumps and refreshed her lipstick. She gave herself a look before leaving the office, then realized she was being ridiculous. She was going to meet Oliver Queen, her ex-patient for lunch for burgers, and his bodyguard would be there, too. She was still angry at him. She did not need to fix herself up.

She spotted John Diggle sitting at a booth when she entered the restaurant. She waved at him and walked over. Oliver scooted over when he noticed her arrival. “Good choice.” she commented as she sat down next to him. “How are you, Mr. Diggle?”

“It’s John, remember?” he commented with a smile. “I’m good Dr. Smoak, how about you?”

“Angry.” she answered, glancing over Oliver who remained silent. “Our mutual friend who likes wearing green leather doesn’t like talking to really good psychiatrists.”

“Said really good psychiatrists apparently love talking about their patients with others, though.” Oliver commented drily.

Before she could say anything, they were interrupted by a tall, beautiful woman who was smiling at Diggle. “Sorry it took me so long.” she said as she placed a tall glass of milkshake in front of him. “I’m waiting on particularly rowdy customers.” She nodded towards a table. Felicity looked over her shoulder and saw the table with two kids playing and screaming. Her heart went out to the waitress, knowing very well how difficult kids as customers could be.

“You need me to handle that?” Diggle offered with a smile she had never seen on him before. The waitress dismissed him. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

“Girlfriend?” Felicity asked, unable to help herself as curiosity took the best of her.

“No. That’s my sister-in-law.” he paused. “Sort of.”

It was Oliver who explained softly. “Carly was married to Digg’s brother Andy, and he passed away.”

She didn’t acknowledge Oliver. “I’m sorry to hear about your brother.” she said, then added. “In my professional opinion, she has the hots for you.”

“Becoming friends made you vulgar.” Oliver snorted next to her. She believed it was the first time she had her such a noise coming from him. “You should order the chili cheese fries.” he suggested as he handed her the vinyl menu.

“I should.” she agreed without even looking at the menu.

“I’ll be right back.” Diggle said as he excused himself, leaving the two of them alone.

“So is this how you plan your vigilante activities? Over burgers and shakes?” she asked as she leaned on her elbow on the table, looking over at him. “I thought your lair fitted more to the occasion.”

“Vigilantes get hungry, too.” he answered. He had an air of playfulness and lightness about him that she was witnessing for the first time. “I’m sorry if I was harsh to you on the phone. This new thief stealing expensive jewelry all around town has me agitated, I think I tried taking it out from you.”

“I wasn’t very courteous myself, just going head on with blaming you. I’m sorry, too.” she replied. “I just want the best for you, Oliver. Professor Alberto is good. Though he apparently isn’t as good as I thought since he is failing to see through your very blatant lies.”

“He isn’t you.” he answered, looking directly into her eyes with an expression she failed to read.

Diggle came back that very second. “Your order should be out in a few minutes.”

“Thanks.” she replied shyly. “So any ideas about how to catch this thief stealing expensive jewelry?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have 2.5 chapters written and ready! I won't be posting them immediately though, apologies. Please read and review, I love reading comments!  
> I'm fulltimeprocrastinator on tumblr if anyone is interested.


	12. Chapter 12

 

 

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

**  
**

** Chapter 12 **

One way or another, he should have known that he would end up in that place. As he climbed up the steps to the townhouse, leaving Diggle in the car, he thought about how this was different from the first time he went to see Felicity in her office. He was early, the townhouse was old and fancy. He rang the doorbell and the door was opened by an elderly man moments later.

“Mr. Queen, welcome. I’m Mr. Carter.” he said as he stepped inside to let him in. “Professor Alberto is expecting you in his office. Let me take your jacket.”

“I’m fine.” he brushed off and followed the man. The inside of the house reminded him of the Queen Mansion. The parlor was filled with paintings depicting various landscapes and some old men posing in their fancy clothes. He shook his head as they climbed up the steps of the spiral staircase. A similarly aged man with white, balding hair was waiting for them at the top.

“Mr. Queen, welcome.” The man, Professor Alberto gave him a weak handshake. That was more than enough reason for Oliver to dislike the man. “I wasn’t expecting you for another ten minutes, knowing your reputation of always being late.”

Oliver didn’t say anything but walked behind the old man, gritting his teeth. They entered an office he considered as the stereotypical office he had in mind for psychiatrists. The first thing he noticed was the strong smell of old cigarettes. The room was dark with dark mahogany furniture and bookcases stretching from wall to wall filled with leather-bounded books. His mind was made up when he sat down on the uncomfortable red armchair. It wasn’t going to work out with Professor Alberto. The constant judgmental looks the old man was giving him were not going to help either. He could imagine what Felicity would say, but when the professor opened up his mouth to ask him about his childhood in between coughs, he disregarded her voice in his head and lies piled up.

Weeks later, he was wondering why Felicity regarded Professor Alberto as the best in his field when he was failing to see through his lies. He would recount stories different from what he had recited the week before, throw in implausible events, and the old man would still nod his head and listen, never making a remark. He would challenge himself to come up with the most blatant lies and the old man would still believe him.

Professor Alberto was the image that had conjured up in his mind when he was first asked to see a therapist by his family’s doctor and it was disheartening to see that his unfounded, prejudiced, stereotyped ideas of how a psychiatrist should be was taking a physical form in the old man. Felicity had been a fresh breath of air and had taken him by surprise. Her office was warm, bright and welcoming, it smelled of fresh flowers unlike the dark furniture and the sickening smell of Alberto’s office. He would find himself missing watching her expressions as he made up stories as he looked at the man’s stoic face. He had grown to trust Felicity, something that would never happen with the professor.

It didn’t come as a surprise when Felicity caught up. Given how frequently Professor Alberto talked about her when he actually talked and not just bought in his lies, he had been expecting for weeks for her to come to the realization.

He watched her reflection on the mirror as she entered Big Belly Burger, fuming. He couldn’t help but crack a smile as her reaction softened upon seeing Diggle. Without looking at her, he scooted in the seat so that she could sit next to him. She wasn’t looking at him when she sat down and started talking to John. He took in her bright lipstick and her hair in its usual ponytail. It was a change from how she looked that night in her house three weeks ago, the last time he saw her in person. Ever since that night, they would have phone talks almost every day, spanning from minutes to an hour, just to check up on one another.

He listened intently the easy conversation between Felicity and Diggle. He wasn’t apparently the only one who had picked up the vibe between Diggle and his sister-in-law Carly when he heard Felicity commenting on Carly having the hots for Diggle. He couldn’t help but snort.

The relationship he had now with Felicity resembled what he knew to be a friendship. It wasn’t like what it was Tommy or Laurel. It was different than what he had with Diggle though it had similar roots. He wouldn’t call Diggle at two in the morning just to ask how his day was. Diggle wouldn’t call him to tell him what he ate for lunch after having spent his hour with a particularly difficult patient. Listening to her talk about mundane things about her day would give him solace after spending a night as The Hood. He had failed to take notice of how they had progressed, but Felicity Smoak was now a part of his daily life even though he didn’t get to see her every day.

When he did see her, he realized, he enjoyed her company, enjoyed being around him. She was wearing an outfit similar to what she would wear to their sessions. They had stopped their sessions almost a month ago so it was the first time he had seen her dressed up, in heels. He knew that she didn’t have appointments on Monday so her choice of clothing was a little out of the ordinary for lunch at a burger joint, but he didn’t say a thing. He did comment on her vulgarity though. The way she reacted to his words made him smile. He suggested her to order chili cheese fries, his favorite food at Big Belly Burger though he didn’t always go for them.

When the two of them were left alone, he took the opportunity to examine her. They had met in public before, yes, and he had seen her outside of their sessions, yes, but the whole thing about being out in a burger joint, teasing each other like good old friends, it was a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time. It reminded of him of simpler times. He couldn’t remember of simpler times, not at least after the Queen’s Gambit sunk.

“So is this how you plan your vigilante activities? Over burgers and shakes?” she asked him, leaning on her elbow on the table, looking over at him with a smirk. “I thought your lair fitted more to the occasion.”

The smirk on her face was a nice touch, he couldn’t help but smile himself. “Vigilantes get hungry, too.” he answered teasingly. He had been on edge for the last few weeks with the new criminal on the streets known as Dodger who went around stealing priceless jewelry and threatening lives of innocent people by his homemade bombs. He had been harsh on Diggle, feeling helpless and trying to take it out on him. Given his earlier phone talk, he realized he had been harsh on Felicity, too, trying to ignore her concern for him. It was now a foreign concept for him, having people concerned about his well-being both physically and mentally. He had learned through trial and error that it was a world where everyone was alone and had to keep themselves out from the line of fire. First with Diggle and now with Felicity, he felt that there were now people in his life, people he had met after Lian Yu, who cared for him and who he could trust. He felt like he owed an apology. “I’m sorry if I was harsh to you on the phone. This new thief stealing expensive jewelry all around town has me agitated, I think I tried taking it out from you.”

The smirk on her face disappeared momentarily, replaced by her default emotion of concern. “I wasn’t very courteous myself, just going head on with blaming you. I’m sorry, too.” she sighed. “I just want the best for you, Oliver. Professor Alberto is good. Though he apparently isn’t as good as I thought since he is failing to see through your very blatant lies.”

He thought about Professor Alberto and how he wished it was Felicity sitting in front of him and not Alberto during their sessions. He thought about how she had been immediately able to pick up on his lies, even realizing the fact that he was recapping the few episodes he had seen of _Lost_. He thought about how excited her secretary would be to see him unlike Mr. Carter who was just vary of his every move in the professor’s house that moonlighted as his office. He realized that his first assumption about Professor Alberto would always be valid, that it wouldn’t work between them, that he would never be able to trust him like he had learned to do with Felicity. That he would never be her. So he told her.

He couldn’t read the expression on her face. It was akin to surprise with a mix of accepting. He would never be sure. Then Diggle was back and the moment was gone.

A few days later, Diggle was gone from the lair, not wanting to talk to him anymore. The high ceilings of the lair were crushing Oliver as he sat before his computer, looking into Dodger, and coming up empty, unable to do a thing about the reappearance of Deadshot in his city and unable to making it up to Diggle.

“He has every right to be angry with you, you know that right?” Felicity told him on the phone. It was almost midnight. “I know you have your priorities as the vigilante, but this is your partner we are talking about. The man who murdered his brother, widowed his sister-in-law with whom he might be secretly in love with, though it’s neither here nor there, is back in town and you are going after another guy. You told me that you were on edge with this other thief, why are you letting him get under your skin and affect your one good relationship? Help Diggle out and go after that sniper guy. I don’t mean go kill him or anything, but just find information about him and give it to Diggle.”

He knew she was right, he was just too stubborn to admit it. Diggle had had his back, had helped him take down many criminals without asking anything in return. Diggle had his own vendetta, not unlike his own with those who had brought his city to its knees, and he had let him down. “It’s not that simple.” Oliver found himself telling.

“Oliver, if you were given the chance to do one thing that would right every wrong thing, would you take it?”

Her question, despite coming off easy, had a lot of weight to it. If he had the chance, he would go back in time, avoid Sara, never get on that boat and try to patch things with Laurel. Or he would stay away from Laurel completely. Or he would go back and stop his father and his peers from making bad decisions that would lead to the corruption of his city. He would try to stop himself making a lot of wrong decisions. He would try to be a better man, one that didn’t make as many mistakes as he had made before the island. He would try to go back in time and never uncover his hood to Tommy and Laurel.

He then realized that no matter what he did, no matter how many mistakes he tried to avoid, he would still somehow end up in the same place, all alone in a lair, or the mansion or an apartment not maybe with scars covering his body but with other consequences, with other weight on his shoulders. In another life, maybe he would have gotten a random girl pregnant and ended up being a reluctant father. Or he would have been running Queen Consolidated himself as a vicious CEO caring only about work. Or he would have drowned when the Queen’s Gambit went down. Anything could have happened. He just needed to accept things as they were and move on.

“I would take it but it wouldn’t change things.” he replied after a pause. “I would still end up talking to you.”

She was silent on the other end of the line. He could hear her breathe. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“On the contrary,” he started. “Talking to you is a great thing.” It was true. Coming back from the island, he had lied to everyone from his previous life and had already lost two of them. He was lying to his family in order to protect them, never shedding a glimpse into his true persona. The one ally he had gained was now gone. Felicity was the only one remaining even though he had known her for the least period of time and their relationship was at first built on professionalism and lies. There she was now, on the phone with him, listening to him, giving him advice, having a real conversation with him.

“So, what are you going to do?” she asked. “Do you need me to go talk to him or would you rather I talk some sense into you?”

“I can handle Diggle myself.” he answered. “I might need some convincing myself in your loud voice.”

“I can definitely do that.” she answered. “You are so tense, Oliver. You need to relax. Go punch a dummy or whatever work out you do that gave you those abs.” she paused. “I did say that out loud, didn’t I?”

He laughed despite himself. “Good night Felicity.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised on Tumblr, here is a new chapter dedicated to arrows-and-fairytales and theeverlea because wow, thank you both of you! And thank you everyone who has left so many nice comments, wow, I'm constantly baffled by the response to this ridiculous AU fic! 
> 
> I'm still high on all the information we got from SDCC. Wow. I'm still trying to wrap my head around things. Why isn't it October yet?
> 
> I'm fulltimeprocrastinator on tumblr. Many thanks for reading in advance! Please do comment if you did read.


	13. Chapter 13

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

** Chapter 13 **

Knowing Oliver was the vigilante and offering to help him out were two very different things, she learned. It was easy keeping a secret, her profession required that from her on a daily basis. She could accept his night activities, be concerned for him, not be able to sleep until she received a call from him in the middle of the night after he returned to his lair to make sure he made it through the night. She could disregard his means to stop his foes, turn a blind eye to newspapers calling The Hood a killer. Offering herself to be a bait was harder.

She knew that Oliver was stubborn; he had taken every chance to prove her of the fact. It had almost been two weeks, and he was still cruising through the night on his own, without any backup because he had failed to accept that Diggle was right and he had faulty priorities and he had failed to apologize. Her one visit to John Diggle’s house after her latest session with her patient obsessed with the Hood had left her empty-handed because while Diggle had appreciated her visit and concern, he was still angry at the man he thought he was partners with.

So here she was, standing in front of the mirror, doing the last touch ups to her hair while waiting for Oliver to come pick her up. She thought the red dress she chose to wear would allow her to enter a secret, underground casino filled with mobsters inconspicuously. It had been years since she had stepped inside a casino but she knew them like the back of her hand having grown up in Las Vegas, spending her weekends sneaking into casinos with her friends, making some cash counting cards in Blackjack. She didn’t think the past she had tried her best to run from would be used as a necessary skill to get information about the guy who had killed Diggle’s brother, yet having Oliver in her life had proved her wrong again.

She wasn’t surprised to see that Oliver had stuck with his habits and sneaked inside her house using the patio door. When she came downstairs to pick up her heels, he was sitting on the armchair he had sat at weeks ago in his full costume like it was the most natural thing in the world to sit down in a living room as The Hood, holding his bow. He had failed to mention the part that he would be accompanying her as The Hood.

“Don’t you ever use the front door?” she asked, holding on to the railing of the staircase to slip on her shoes.

“Not until Halloween.” he replied getting on his feet, pointing at his costume. She couldn’t help but chuckle at his response. It was good to know that Oliver Queen had a sense of humor.

He walked towards her. She could see his eyes skimming over her even under the hood, making her feel uneasy. When she had offered herself for the task, she had underestimated how it would make her feel to work with Oliver. Given how he had his partner pull away from him, she was expecting him to be stubborn and intense, on top of being efficient and somewhat scary. She wasn’t expecting him to check her out blatantly.

“So I guess I am driving.” she said picking up her clutch, making sure she had everything she needed.

He tilted his head. “I rode my bike here.” he replied. Even in the confines of her house, he was using his vigilante voice. She came to the conclusion that once he was in the costume on a mission, he was in the mindset of the Hood and the voice came along with it.

“You are not expecting me to ride behind you in this dress, are you?”

“No.” he protested at once. “You can follow me in your car.”

She motioned him to lead the way, but remembering she was living in the suburbs where people would not be expecting to see the city’s vigilante walk out of a townhouse under the street lights, she just went to her front door while he made his way to the patio. She was in her car when a black motorcycle pulled next to her. Taking her cue, she started the engine and started the journey downtown to where the secret casino was. Twenty minutes later, she was parked at a back alley.

“Here, put this in your ear.” Oliver said as he stepped from the shadows momentarily and handed her a small Bluetooth earpiece. She was glad her hair was swept over one shoulder, covering her one ear. “You don’t have to do this.” he added while she was placing the earpiece, his voice resembling his usual tone in its softness, placing a hesitant hand on her bare shoulder. It wasn’t his first attempt at making her change her mind.

She cast a sideways look on his hand on her shoulder then took stepped towards him, which made him take a step back into the shadows. “Yes, I have to.” she responded looking up right into his eyes. “I can count cards and you need me.”

He sighed, giving in. “If anything happens, I’m right outside.” He nodded at her and she smiled at him in response.

Holding her clutch tightly, leaving Oliver behind, she walked towards the inconspicuous door that led to the casino. It reminded her of the entrance of Oliver’s secret lair, except from the fact that it was guarded by two tall men standing rigid and the inside of it was possibly filled with crooks. “Putting two armed guards at a random door totally doesn’t look suspicious.” she said out loud sarcastically.

“Password is snapdragon.” came his voice in her ear that took her off-guard. They had spoken on the phone numerous times but now it felt like he was standing right next to her ear even though he was laying low somewhere at a rooftop where he could have visual. It felt more intimate but she didn’t want to think about that while she had a mission to do.

She walked to one of the guards who asked her the password. She repeated Oliver’s information in a controlled voice. The guard nodded at her and motioned towards the door. She walked past him with a victorious smile.

The door creaked and she stepped into a momentary darkness. When her eyes adjusted, she was overlooking a room reminiscent of some of the older casinos back home in Vegas, filled with the same kind of people. The only difference was the amount of men armed with machine guns. She gulped when she counted about a dozen of them but walked in anyways with steady steps, focusing on a Blackjack table that didn’t have many players. If there was one thing she had learned from the times she had won over the house by counting cards, it was the fact that it was always a better idea to be discreet and less players made that possible.

“What do you see?”

She looked around upon his question, trying to get a better detailed view of her surroundings. “A dozen guards, two pit bosses and a foreman. No slot machines. I would totally have some slot machines around if I was going for the casino vibe.” she slurred in a whisper.

“Stay focused, please.” his voice cut through her thoughts. “I’ll be with you the entire time.”

“Thanks.” she said with a sigh, a smile creeping on her face. “It feels really good having you inside me.” she blurted out. Upon realization of her actual words, her mouth opened unaccounted. She was scandalized by her words. She tried to correct herself, having an internal argument. “And by you – your voice. And by me, I mean my ear.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to shut up until I have some information for you.”

She still had an internal debate ongoing in her brain when she stopped before the table she had laid her eyes on. She took a seat and opened her clutch, taking out the money Oliver had donated to the mission. Oliver had refused to send her off to the casino on her own when she had offered to use her own money given how it was her idea and how much she wanted to get a hold on the info that would bring down the man that had put the distance between Diggle and Oliver. Now knowing that she would never see that money again, she was glad she had followed Oliver’s instructions. He was still the billionaire between the two of them and didn’t want to focus on how he chose to spend his money.

Once she had her chips, she was comfortable. She was pulled back to her default setting at casinos as the croupier opened up his cards and she counted them in discretion. Oliver was silent in her ear when the croupier announced her first winning. She nodded as her new earnings were pushed before her. She had missed the thrill of earning great amounts of money in quick succession. She tried not to give into it knowing it was the reason why she had been banned from entering most of the casinos on The Strip back home. So she continued winning without making a big show of it, but still making it obvious that she was cheating so that one of the pit bosses would alert the manager and she would have her way in the office to plant the bug.

She could hear Oliver breathing in her ear. She still wasn’t talking to him. Another round of winnings and she finally saw one of the guards with the machine gun walk over to the croupier and whisper something. The croupier looked at her then two armed men appeared at her sides.

“Miss, could you come with me?” one of them said as he held her elbow.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Get up.” the other man said through his teeth.

She looked around and picked up her clutch. “Okay, since you asked so nicely.” The men led her through another door and down a corridor. She could hear Oliver’s deep breaths in her ear. “Could you meet me outside in ten minutes?” she whispered. “Sigh if you agree.” she added and heard him sigh.

“Mr. Alonso?” the guy holding her elbow called out to the guy in the office whose photos she had seen through Oliver’s search. He was the one running the secret casino and had information regarding the contract killer Diggle was after.

“Have a seat.” Alonso showed the chair opposite to his desk, facing the back of his computer and she sat down as the door was closed behind them. All of the guards were left outside. Their mistake, she thought to herself. “What’s your name?”

“Meghan.” she replied, opting to use her middle name. She placed her clutch on her lap. She opened it slowly and located the bug Oliver had given her. Turning the small metal pin in her hands, she leaned over, showing some cleavage to distract the owner while she placed the bug on the back of the computer’s case.

“Do you know where the term eighty-six comes from, Meghan?” he asked in what seemed to be his threatening tone.

She took her time to look around the room and located the window that was supposed to lead to the fire escape according to the building’s blueprints Oliver had found before replying. “Yes, it happens I do.” she said. She had heard of it many times before. “It’s from prohibition. There was an illegal casino, not like this one, located at 86 Bedford Street in New York and…” she paused. “I’m just gonna stop talking.”

“Now it means to ban someone who is cheating.” he responded, still glimpsing at her breasts which made her sick to her stomach. “You are eighty-sixed.” He got on his feet and walked over her. “Leave your chips and go.”

Taking her cue, she got on her feet, fished through her clutch and found what she was looking for. “Thank you.” she said as the man stood next to her but didn’t open the door.

“You’re too pretty to be coming to casinos to cheat on your own.” he leered. The sickness in her stomach was getting worse. He placed a hand on her shoulder, just over the spot where Oliver had placed his hand earlier. While she had felt comfort under Oliver’s touch, she now felt uneasiness. “I can’t let you leave so easily for trying to screw me over.”

She heard Oliver grunt in her ear but she acted faster before he would break into the casino himself. She sprayed her handy pepper-spray right into the man’s eyes and when he covered his eyes in agony, she kneed him in the groin and then elbowed him in the neck when he bended down. He fell on the floor as a heap at her feet, unconscious. Knowing the armed men would come into the office any second upon hearing the noises, she rushed to the window, pushed it over. Her heel tangled in her skirt. She pulled at the fabric, her heart beating faster and faster in her chest, ripping it and made it to the metal stairs and started running upstairs. Oliver was waiting her when she made it to the roof.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he glared at her under his hood. “He could have hurt you.”

“Well, he didn’t.” she blurted, stating the obvious, bending over with her hands on her thighs to catch her breath. “The bug is planted. Can we go before the guards wreak havoc?”

He nodded and held out a gloved hand. She looked at his hand then at him. Not knowing what else to do, she placed her hand in his and he started moving to the other end of the roof, pulling her with him. They rushed to the edge of the roof, looking down to the street. “Don’t look down.” Oliver said as he pulled an arrow from his quiver and aimed. “Hold on to me tightly.”

Before she could respond, Oliver was holding her tight into his chest, wrapping one arm around her waist while she, on reflex, closed her eyes and hugged him. She moved with him as he took another step and then there was nothing solid under her feet and they were speeding down to the street level.

“Don’t you dare do it again!” she shouted, slapping his chest once she felt the solid ground of the dirty alley under her feet. She practiced the methods she knew by heart to avoid having a panic attack. When she looked at him, he was snickering.

“How did you expect to get down from there?” he asked her, the glimpse of a smile still apparent on his face. She didn’t respond, instead played with the skirts of her now ripped dress. “Let me reimburse the dress to you.”

“I didn’t buy it for this occasion.” she responded. Her heart was still thumping fast against her ribcage. “It was for a wedding I went to last summer. It’s now a casualty of war.”

“If you say so.” he said and placed a hand on her shoulder, on the same spot. She realized he wasn’t wearing his gloves anymore. “Come on.”

They walked in silence to where they had parked their respective modes of transportation. She opened up her clutch and held out two chips she had palmed while playing Blackjack. “Here.” she said as she held them out to him. “I lost your money but these can still be cashed out… if you are ever willing to come back to this illegal casino.”

“You need to teach me how to count cards sometime.” he responding, twirling the chips in his hands. “Thank you so much, Felicity. You didn’t have to do this, but you did. You put your life at stake… You are really remarkable.”

She smiled shyly. “You’re welcome. I hope you find the information you were looking for.” She took out her keys and unlocked her Mini Cooper’s door.

“I’ll let you know.” He held the door open for her. “I’ll see you later.”

“Goodnight, Oliver.” she said, started the engine and drove away. Through her rearview mirror, she could see Oliver revving his bike into the opposite direction. She caught her own reflection on the mirror. Her cheeks were still flushed, her hair was in disarray. “That was one way to spend a Wednesday night.” she said out loud to herself.

“How do you usually spend your Wednesday nights?” came a hushed voice in her ear. She had forgotten about the earpiece.

She chuckled as she pulled the earpiece out at the next red light. “Good night.” she whisper before turning it off with the press of a tiny button.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is another chapter and it will probably be a long time until I update as I am still in the process of writing a couple of new chapters and then will be going on vacation without access to my laptop. As you have noticed, I didn't do Dodger. I am sort of borrowing storylines from the show so instead of going with the Dodger case, I brought in the casino and Deadshot, which was fun to write. 
> 
> Many thanks for those of you reading and commenting. I am still baffled as to know that this story now has over 400 kudos! Thank you all so much, it means a lot!
> 
> I will try to update before I go on vacation, but if that doesn't happen, then apologies, this will be on hold until mid-September. Do comment in the meantime! 
> 
> I'm fulltimeprocrastinator on tumblr, if anyone is interested.


	14. Chapter 14

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

** Chapter 14 **

Oliver didn’t make a comment when they went out for lunch for the first time just the two of them.

He had given the information he found on Alfonso’s computer to Diggle, recounting details about the assassin and his various aliases and allies, but Diggle was still hesitant to go back to working with him. Oliver was patient, he was more than willing to wait until Diggle was ready to come back. He was still going at night, crossing out names from his list just like he had first started. It was difficult, but he wasn’t going to give in. Felicity was still around to pick up his calls, listening to him, letting him confide in her; his trust in her was growing every day. It wasn’t long before he suggested that their new friendship not be limited to late night phone calls or her assistance, despite his unwillingness, on his activities.

The events of her involvement with the underground casino were still fresh in his mind. Staying away, not being able to stay close by for her protection, being only limited to audio had him agitated. She was on her own, surrounded by crooks and dangerous men with heavy machine guns, trying to get herself caught. All because of him. He was too stubborn to admit to Diggle that he was wrong and had failed to catch the guy known as Deadshot when he had the chance and Felicity instead was covering his tracks.

He had been proud of her as he listened to the croupier announcing her winnings one after another. He had had his share of casinos together with Tommy in both Monte Carlo and in Las Vegas but he couldn’t remember a time they had actually won something in monetary value. From what he could hear, she had tripled the money he had given in less than twenty minutes. It was obvious she was cheating but it still was impressive.

When she asked him to meet her in ten minutes, he didn’t know what she was planning. She was supposed to get close to Alfonso’s computer to plant the bug then leave through the door she came in from. She wasn’t supposed to have a back-up plan, it was his responsibility to make sure she would not get into any trouble. He got on his feet on the fire escape he was perched on and listened as Felicity tried to outsmart Alfonso who sounded as awful as his illegal operations.

He was enraged when he heard Alfonso’s remarks. He had her alone in a room, defenseless and it boiled Oliver’s blood. He had his hood over and his bow and arrows ready when instead of screams of help he heard the sound of a spray being discharged, followed by an agonizing scream and then a loud thump. He listened intently to figure out what was happening, only to be responded by Felicity’s quick breaths indicating that she was running and then he was running to the rooftop to meet her. Felicity Smoak kept surprising him.

He met her outside her office and they started walking. She didn’t have a preference in cuisine so he chose for the both of them. It was a small Italian restaurant on the outskirts of Glades, one that always reminded him of the one summer in Rome he had spent with Tommy. It was a restaurant he frequented before Queen’s Gambit went down. The owners were still the same and they remembered him, giving them his old table.

He ordered the chef’s special for himself and a pitcher of the red house wine while Felicity insisted on plain pasta. He suggested other items on the menu given how good they were, but she said she was okay with her choice. She picked and ripped apart five packets of sugar on the table while he was telling him about seeing Laurel and Tommy for the first time in a month. It was awkward to see his two former best friends in each other’s arms, promptly ignoring him as they walked past him on the street outside Queen Consolidated. He was used to getting cold shoulder given how he had treated people in the past, but what he was feeling was a new, strange sensation. He had entrusted them with his biggest secret and they now wanted nothing to do with him. There were only four people in the city he had revealed himself to and out of the four of them, only Felicity had received the new information so easily.

He took his time to examine Felicity who was silent but nodding as he spoke, looking out into the space. She seemed distracted but she was still listening to him, which made him all the more eager to speak. It was a pleasant feeling having someone around him just listening to whatever he was saying, showing trust in him he was sure he didn’t deserve. The island had taught him in the harshest ways possible that trust was a fickle thing: it was hard to earn and grow. In a few months, he had grown to trust Felicity, even with his life, and he knew she trusted him in return.

The waiter was talking to himself in Italian and possibly complaining about her order when he came in with their food. She listened intently and replied in Italian, telling something to the waiter that he didn't understand, silencing the waiter. He was taken aback, not really expecting her to be speaking Italian, but didn’t say a thing. She poured the contents of the packets on her pasta, mixed the sugar and took a bite while he took in the scene with a stoic look on his face, trying not to make a comment.

“My dad used to eat his pasta with sugar.” she said casually, answering the question he didn't ask, and then continued listening to how his once best friends ignored him and walked to the other way upon seeing him.

Their first lunch outing taught him two things. Felicity was a wonderful lunch companion. And there were too many things he didn’t know about her. She had never spoken about her family before and he didn’t remember reading a specific thing about the family when he had researched her on the internet. He didn’t know what other obscure food preferences she had. He didn’t know when she had learned Italian.

The next time they went to lunch, he let her decide. She drove them in her red car that was too small for him to a roadside diner on the city limits. The diner only had a couple of tables occupied despite the lunch hour and they sat down at a table by the window, looking at cars driving by.

“This was where I had my first meal in Starling City.” she said, looking at the menu their middle aged waitress handed. “It was amazing. This is still probably my favorite place in the city.”

“When did you first come to Starling?” he asked as the waitress placed a plastic glass of water complete with a straw before him.

“Seven years ago.” she replied, twirling her straw. He couldn’t help but look at her fingers, her fingernails painted a dark blue. “I was chosen to intern under the supervision of Professor Alberto. I was working too hard to notice anything else in the city, though.”

“Training to be a better therapist than him must have been tough.”

She smiled at him. “I can only hope to be better than him.” she said. “He is a legend.”

His response was quick. “A legend who has been terrible at seeing through my lies, unlike you.”

“Are you complimenting me?” she asked, sounding shocked. He was surprised to realize that she didn’t already know how highly he thought of her. He nodded in response. “Um, thanks.” she mumbled. “Anyways, my friend from med school and I were going to intern together so we did a cross-country road trip and drove all the way from Boston to here. So this diner was our first stop in Starling and our last stop on our road trip. It was long and tiring, but that probably was the best summer I had.”

“Tommy and I were going to do a road trip ourselves after I came back from China… but you know how that went.” he admitted. It was one of the many plans he had made that never came to life. “It must have been fun.”

“It was.” she said. The waitress came for their orders. “Can I have pancakes with strawberries? And lots of whipped cream.”

He gave her a questioning look. “Felicity, it’s lunch time.”

“Breakfast food is valid for any meal of the day.” she shrugged, handing back her menu.

“I’ll have the garden salad with grilled chicken. And a side of bacon.” He gave his menu away, too, and looked at Felicity. He found her food choices odd. She seemed to have an interesting relationship with sweet food which was something he never craved for while he was on the island. Bacon, on the other hand, was something amongst the things he had missed the most.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Pancakes are awesome. I can eat them for dinner, too.”

He shook his head, giving a sly smile. “No, pancakes are good. You seem to have a sweet tooth.”

“I took it after my dad.” she remarked, but didn’t explain. “Have you talked with Diggle, yet?”

He sighed because she was changing the subject yet again and because things with Diggle were still complicated. “John is not ready yet.” he replied. “I gave him the information I found thanks to you. He said he appreciated that you went undercover by the way.” he added, garnering a smile from her. “He said he needs a little time. I’m fine though, I manage on my own.”

“You need him.” she leaned over from where she was sitting. “For back up.”

“I started this on my own, I didn’t have anyone to back me up back then.” he responded quickly.

“I just…” she started, but was interrupted when their food arrived. “This looks so good.” she said before indulging in her pancakes. “You want some?” she offered between bites.

“I’m good.” he replied as he took a bite from a strip of bacon. “You never know how much you can miss bacon until you get stranded on an island.”

“I've never had bacon.” she said.

“You never had bacon?” he asked, confused. He couldn’t think of any reasons why anyone would miss out on bacon.

“I’m Jewish.” she commented. “On my mom’s side. I can’t eat anything not kosher.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you.” he said, reaching out and placing a hand on her hand on the table, not knowing how else to react.

“It’s fine.” she shrugged, pulling her hand away. “I don’t practice it much, I still play with fire on Shabbat. Not that I play with fire, I'm not a pyromaniac. I meant it as in cooking.” she paused, taking a breather. “I just never had a taste for non-kosher stuff because of my mother.”

As he sat there opposite to her, forking his way through his salad, he realized that little by little, he was going to learn everything about Felicity Smoak. He was going to be patient with her, too, like she had been with him, like he was doing with Diggle. He felt that there were still too many things left unsaid between them, that they still didn’t know much about one another, that there were things he wouldn’t want to tell her, but they had the most important thing they shared: trust. He considered Felicity a friend and he cherished his time with her. It was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back! thank you all for your patience. there isn't much going on in this chapter, but i just wanted to give some background and some weird habits to my felicity in the story (she has some traits of leslie knope and me) . please read and leave a comment!


	15. Chapter 15

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

** Chapter 15 **

It was easy being friends with Oliver Queen, way easier than being his psychiatrist. It still was restrained at times given the past nature of their relationship and the things she knew and the things he still kept to himself because of his stubbornness. He still carried the burden of the whole world on his shoulders, still tried to take the blame for every little wrong thing, still spent his nights going after the crooked kind of Starling City, but when they sat down on the floor of her living room, eating noodles from their containers and exchanging stories from personal histories, he would lighten up and laugh and she would forget about everything else.

“And that’s how I ended up peeing on a cop.” he said, putting his lo mein on the coffee table between them.

“I always imagined it to be a consequence of more dramatic reasons.” she commented, laughing. “Not that I imagined you peeing on a cop. Or peeing, in general.” she paused, taking a breath. “Um, yeah. I only got super drunk once in my life.”

“Only once?” he asked.

“I am not much of a party-goer, never was. Gina, my ex roommate.” she stopped, remembering something. “Oh, she was there that night. When I saw you at Verdant, before you saved me? I was out with her.” she quickly said. “Anyways, Gina used to be my roommate and she kept pushing me to go to all these parties with her. I kept most of my rare appearances at parties with her pretty low-key, but one time, we went to this frat party and suffice to say, there was a lot of illegal drinking. There were quite a few keg-stands and body shots, I think. I don’t know the details but apparently I got a bunch of frat boys to do stuff for me. You know how frat boys are, they do anything for anyone with boobs.”

“I was a frat boy.” Oliver remarked.

“I rest my case.” she winked. “So long story short, I woke up to the sound of a goat next to me. I wearing sun-glasses and the lacrosse team’s jersey, which I assure you I wasn’t wearing the night before, was on the yard of the frat house with the world’s worst hangover. I was told that I had stolen the mascot of the rival lacrosse team.” she laughed. “Only three hours later I remembered I had an exam that morning. It was the worst day. Needless to say I never went out with Gina again. Well, until that night. In my defense, she did ditch me for random guys at the bar that night so it doesn’t count.”

“You should be glad you didn’t know Tommy back then. Or me.” he said. “Tommy would be worse. He was all drinking games and pranks under that charming persona. I’m still surprised that he actually managed to graduate given he attended to more parties than classes back when we were in the same university before I dropped out.”

“Losing your best friend would be a calling to right your ways.” she offered. They were having fun and she didn’t want to bring down the mood, but her brain read into things by default. “It must have been tough on him.”

Oliver looked at her and nodded, the cheerful look now gone. “I never thought about it like that.” he said. “He graduated and now has a job. Laurel became a lawyer. Maybe me being dead was better for them.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” she said, reaching out to cup his hand. “I told you before, I can hardly imagine what you went through on that island, but I can imagine how the people you left behind were like. Losing a son, a brother, a friend… it must have been difficult. I told you that they are mistaken to expect you to be the same person you were five years ago, but you should also consider the fact that they lost a person dear to them and had to live with that fact for five years. Loss changes people.” she said in her honesty. “You being alive and here is something everyone who lost someone close hopes for and not everyone gets a second chance.”

He was silent as he let her hand lay on top of his. She wondered whether her abrupt statements created the first occasion where Oliver actually thought about how the people he left behind went on their lives while he was stranded. From the look of his face, she realized it was a possibility. He then took his hand away and started rubbing the nape of his neck. “I should go.” he then said.

Not wanting to give him any more discomfort, she let him stand up for a moment. Then she remembered how he had walked away from her as his patient once so that he could avoid facing his problems. She wasn’t going to let that happen again. “Oliver.” she called out to him as he was moving towards his jacket, his head down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to psychoanalyze you, it just happens with me.” she said as she got on her feet, using the coffee table for support. She didn’t want him to leave upset and possibly blaming her for making him confront his feelings. “Come finish your noodles and tell me something.”

Oliver turned on his heels and when he finally faced her, he was grinning. “Worst dates.” he offered, coming back to sit where he was sitting.

“So, that’s how you want to play it?” she laughed. “I assure you, I have quite a few of those.”

“Hit me with your best worst date.”

She was glad that he was back to his playful self in a short span of time. “Alright.” she smiled, thinking for a second. “Oh. In my second year at medical school, my RA at my dorm invited me for dinner. He flirted with me for months and he was so cute. Of course I said yes. He told me he had reservations at this fancy restaurant.” she snorted. “Sorry, this is just so funny. So I go to the restaurant and they seat me at this table. He finally showed up twenty minutes later… with his boyfriend.”

“You are kidding?”

“No, I kid you not. I still don’t know why the earth didn’t open up and swallow me whole but the three of us ended up having dinner, with them making out half the time. And I ended up paying. Talk about being the third wheel. Then there was this two-minute date back in high school, but I’m not going to talk about that one.”

“You might actually win, Smoak.” he started after snorting. “Yet I have something up on my sleeve. My first date with Laurel was a disaster.”

“Really?” she raised an eyebrow. “I’d think you’d take perfect Laurel for a perfect date.” she commented under her breath.

He laughed lightly at her comment. “I wish. We knew each other through friends and parties in high school though we were at different schools. So when we got to college, my first one, I saw her at the orientation and asked her out. She turned me down, of course. Then it was the rush week for the frat houses and she was also rushing for sororities so we kept running to each other and she finally agreed.” he paused, taking a breath. “I was going to pick her up from her house and I showed up at their townhouse and her father opened the door, holding a shotgun.”

“What?”

“He is a cop, so he was trying to intimidate me. I wouldn’t have expected it any other way.” he grabbed his lo mein again, mixing it with the chopsticks. “I took her to the zoo and we were walking, talking. It was dark and romantic. We grabbed some hotdogs and hers got stolen by a monkey.” She giggled upon hearing that. “I got her another and she dropped it. So we gave up on the hotdogs. She wanted to see penguins because they were her favorite. So we went to see them, only to have the enclosure closed down due to a death. She started crying over the penguins. I tried to console her, but she wouldn’t stop. It took some twenty minutes for her to get over the death of a penguin. We were then about to leave when we saw police cars. Apparently a red panda had escaped from its cage.” He paused when she started laughing. “Stop laughing, I’m not kidding.” he said, laughing himself. “And guess who was there? Her dad. He figured out she had cried and thought I was the reason so he pulled a gun on me for making her cry. She convinced him that it wasn’t my fault, but the whole date was ruined by then. I just left her there and got back home. We didn’t speak for another month.” he paused. “In hindsight, that should have been an omen for our relationship.”

She was silent, then started laughing. “You tried, Queen, but you still can’t beat my two-minute date.” she said, still smiling. “It was the most humiliating experience of my entire life.”

“Okay, you can win this round. I’m sure you don’t have any torture stories to compete with.” he said with a smile and she couldn’t understand whether he was toying with her or blurring truths with sarcasm. Given the scars on his body, she figured it was the latter but didn’t want to confront him twice in one night with truths he wanted not to face and tried changing the subject. “Why did you tell me Laurel was your girlfriend?”

“What?” he asked, his tone hinting at genuine surprise.

“That night at the charity ball. You were with Laurel and you said she was your girlfriend.” she explained. She wasn’t sure what had prompted her to ask about the relationship, but she just wanted to know given how they had talked about her earlier.

“I never said she was my girlfriend.” he said defensively.

“Just before you lied to her saying I was working in IT in your family’s company… which, by the way, was one of the most creative lies I’ve heard you tell, how did you even come up with that? Maybe in another life time it could have been true? I don’t know.” she paused, shutting her eyes tight. “My point is, that you introduced her to me as your girlfriend but you told me that she had been dating Tommy for months before you came back.”

“I never told you she was my girlfriend.” he repeated. “She said she was. There is a difference.” he said, looking at her. “It was a game the three of us used to play. Laurel and I were on and off most of the time and on our good times, she would go and introduce herself as Tommy’s girlfriend to girls around Tommy to scare them off. Tommy hated us for doing that and would actually be happy when we were broken up for the umpteenth time because Laurel wouldn’t be around to ruin his chances.”

“I wouldn’t blame him for feeling that way.” she commented. “Why did you tell her I was working in IT? I’m nowhere near that capable with computers. It felt like such a specific lie.”

“I wasn’t going to tell her you were my psychiatrist.” he replied. “I couldn’t, as you would agree. I just came up with it, I don’t know. Why are you asking me this now?”

“No reason.” she said, busying herself with her spring roll. She took a large bite, dropping the contents on her lap. She cursed in a quiet voice, picking up a napkin to clear the mess. When she lifted her head up, he was looking at her curiously. “What?” she asked, the corner of my mouth lifting up.

“You are avoiding my question.”

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. He was right. “It’s just that…” she started. “I had categorized you as a chronic liar. You kept trying to feed me lies. I wasn’t buying them, just to make that clear, but that didn’t stop you. You are honest now. What changed?”

Oliver continued looking at her in silence. She could easily see that he was deep in thought, something she had observed him to do quite often. “All my life, all that I’ve ever thought about is myself. I took my family for granted. I betrayed people that I loved.” he took a breath. “I’m not going to be that person anymore.” he added, now looking down at his lap. “I’m trying to change. You are the person who pushed me to be honest.”

“Oh.” was her initial reaction.

When she had pushed Oliver to be honest and to stop lying to people around him, starting with her, as his psychiatrist, she hadn’t expected that one day he would come to a point where he would be able to admit his past and how he was trying to change his ways. She not necessarily needed him to change who he was, she enjoyed being around him just as he was. She wasn’t a firm believer that people needed to change their personalities to suit the needs of other people, but if he thought that he himself needed to change his ways and he was doing it, she appreciated it. He wasn’t admitting to changing his personality though for which she was grateful. She knew very well that the Oliver Queen she had grown to know was stubborn and he wouldn’t change that about himself. He was trying to be open and he was willing to be truthful and that was more than enough.

“I’m glad… I mean, I’m glad to hear that, that you’re trying to change.” she continued. “It would be great for you to open up to people, just not because I asked you to. Talking to people about stuff… that will relieve you from the burden you constantly try to carry on your shoulders. I mean, you wear leather pants and go around hunting down bad people with a bow and arrows, it must be difficult to keep that to yourself.”

“It hasn’t gone very well when I opened up about that to people.” he replied, still not looking at her, reminding of her about Tommy and Laurel. She hadn’t forgotten about them, she knew very well that Oliver had friends in his life other than her. He had them and his family, he wasn’t just confined to their occasional meet ups. She hadn’t had many friends in her life for so long that she had forgotten how other people had their own lives herself. She couldn’t remember the last time somebody other than Oliver and the movers had seen the inside of her townhouse.

“You need to go talk to them, like you still need to with Diggle.” she commented. She wanted him to understand, she needed him to take action. “Just invite them for lunch and talk to them, get their side of the story. They are your oldest friends. They need to listen what you have to say, then they’ll understand.”

He sighed, throwing his head back. “I wonder how the conversation would go.” he said, then cleared his throat. “Hey Laurel and Tommy, remember when I revealed myself to you and you both hate me because I’m the vigilante?” he added, changing his voice to fake a conversation. He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s something any of us would like to sit through.”

She was able to understand his concerns, but the psychiatrist in her got the best of her. “You won’t know that until you have that talk.”

“Felicity, they both think I’m a murderer. They are right.” he whispered, looking over at her.

“So don’t. Stop with the killing.” she pleaded, reaching over to his hand, covering it with hers. She looked into his eyes. He gave her a sad look. “It’s not like you killed every guy you faced, you have your own sense of justice. From what I’ve seen, you’ve only killed those you believe that deserved it. You didn’t kill the guy who tried to mug me. Or that creepy guy from the casino.” she paused. “You had every chance to, but you didn’t kill them.”

“I could have.” he pulled his hand away too quickly, getting on his feet quicker. “When I put on the hood, it is kill or be killed. That is what kept me alive for five years.” he lashed out, walking towards the door.

She took a deep breath. “Maybe there is another way.” She leapt to her feet. His back was turned towards her. “Maybe there is another way.” she repeated. He ignored her and was gone the next moment, slamming the door behind him. She stood, staring at the door after he left, the thud of the door still ringing in her ears. She was right, Oliver Queen was stubborn and would not change that about himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is another chapter! Sorry for the delay in posting. Would you believe if I said the premiere killed me? Because it did. These idiots.


	16. Chapter 16

 

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

** Chapter 16 **

The silence was suffocating.

He was sitting across his friends, eyeing his glass of wine, hoping they would say something but instead all the noise in the restaurant was coming from other tables. Tommy and Laurel were silent. He still believed that it was miraculous that they had accepted his offer to meet and have dinner and discuss everything. They were late, a behavior he expected from Tommy but never from Laurel, and just took their seats opposite to him, not even making eye contact with him. The only words they had spoken were to their waiter, asking for a glass of wine each, refusing dinner.

He questioned his decision to invite them over to dinner. Since Lian Yu and since he had learned from Thea that his best friend was dating his ex-girlfriend, that his two best friends were in a relationship, he hadn’t been alone with them in many occasions. Sure, he had been with Tommy running Verdant together and sure he had met Laurel numerous times as The Hood, but he hadn’t been around the couple himself apart from a handful times. The last time he had seen them together, he had acknowledged that they were a good couple and had made his peace with the fact that the woman he once loved was now with his best friend, but then Tommy was shot and the chain of events that led to the dinner they were having now had happened and now he was alone with the couple again, and they were refusing to speak to him.

He knew what they thought of him. He had heard them talk about the Hood, calling the Hood a murderer and now they were trying to live with the fact that the Hood and he were the same person. It wasn’t an easy thing to swallow. He knew from firsthand how Diggle had struggled when he first revealed himself both out of obligation and following Felicity’s advice. Then there was Felicity herself who, after an initial shock, had trusted him and then had saved his life. As he looked at Tommy and Laurel, he wished their understanding would be as smooth as Felicity’s had been, but he knew it wouldn’t be the case.

“So, you are the vigilante.” Tommy’s words finally broke the silence. He sounded bitter. He was holding his wine glass with one hand and had Laurel’s hand in his other hand. The way he was looking at him made Oliver wish he had never lifted his hood. It was too much to bear. There was no friendliness, no understanding in that look. Tommy Merlyn was disappointed in him, all amity was now gone. Oliver didn’t know how to mend things. Since he got back from Lian Yu, all he ever wanted, all he tried was to mend things, to save his city, to right wrongs, yet he was burning more bridges than building them on the way.

He looked up to Tommy, trying to form the right sentence, trying to find the right words, but before he could Laurel spoke. That one word made him question everything. “Why?

Why?

Why was he the vigilante?

Why was he putting his own life in danger in the disguise of the night, wielding a bow and arrows, going after corrupted people, killing them, taking names one by one off the list in his father’s book? Why was he lying to everyone who once held an important place in his life? Why was he failing when all he wanted was to correct everything?

He had made a promise to his father on that raft, barely hanging on to his own life. His father had killed a man then himself so that Oliver could live. So that he could survive _._ Left with a book he couldn’t decipher at first and the clothes on his back, he had made it through the storm.He had survived the island, he was back in his hometown.

What had that promise entailed? In principle, he had kept his promise, he had survived, he had survived the island, all the hardships and was back in his town. The island and Starling City were different places. On the island, every wrong step he took would be his last. He could have stepped on a mine or triggered a trap and his life would be over in seconds. Everyone on the island was the enemy, he had learned his lessons time and time after again. Now in Starling City, it was up to him to choose his own enemies. Anyone that threatened his city was the enemy and he would go after them, no matter what.

Would his father be proud of him? Would he be proud that he was crossing names off his list by putting arrows into the chests of the people the names belonged to? Would he be proud of him killing dozens of people in his name?

He didn’t have all the answers, but he knew he was on a crusade. He was going to get rid of those who had corrupted his city, who had made into his father’s list. Now sitting opposite to his two friends, with Felicity’s words still in his head, he was questioning his methods. Maybe there was indeed a different way, another set of means to stop people without piling up the body count.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” he started, avoiding their eyes. “Or to forgive me. I know you both have a lot of questions.”

“Yeah, but for now, just the one…” Tommy said, already nursing his second glass of wine. “Were you ever gonna tell to the either of us?”

He shook his head. “No…” his voice shook. That had never been in the plans. When he revealed himself, it was because he needed them to trust him. If Tommy hadn’t been in danger, he would have spent years as the Hood and never revealing his identity to them. He would do anything necessary to keep his identity a secret. The less people knew about him, the easier it was for him, and the safer it was for the people around him.

He looked over at them. Laurel looked like she was about to cry. Tommy was looking at her and deliberately avoiding his eyes, pretending he wasn’t just sitting opposite to them. Laurel’s locks were falling over her face as she hugged herself. He had hurt Laurel so many times in the past that he was used to seeing her like that and hated himself for how much he hurt her time and time again. Tommy, the cheeriest person he had ever known, the one person he had managed not to hurt on purpose, looked like he was about to throw the table on him in a tantrum. He hated himself for upsetting two of the most important people in his life. Yet he knew that regardless of when they would learn about his secret identity, they would still be disappointed in him.

He knew Felicity had been right. It was unfair to him when people expected him to be the same person as he was five years ago, before he took Laurel’s sister on that boat and before Lian Yu. He wasn’t that selfish boy anymore who had run away from all responsibilities, who never appreciated what he had had. He also knew that his disappearance had caused despair to the people he had left behind, that he would never know the depths of their suffering. Physical pain he knew very well, it was evident on his body. Emotional pain, suffering… those were still things he was struggling with.

He took a deep breath after the waiter brought Tommy’s third glass. “I’m not the same Ollie who was reckless and stupid, who took you both for granted.” he began, rubbing his index finger with the pad of his thumb. “I’m sorry for what I did to you, for all the pain I caused you.” he sighed and looked at them. “But I’m not going to apologize for what I’m doing now. I can’t change the idea you have of me.” He hoped they were able to understand the honesty behind his words. “I’m trying to change, I’m looking for other ways to bring justice to this city, to save it.” Then he heard it. A sound he wasn’t expecting. Laughter.

“You spent five years on a freaking island and came back to your hometown to become a superhero?” Tommy said, raising his glass. “Cheers to you, my friend. Only Oliver Queen would do that.”

“Tommy.” Laurel nudged him, giving Oliver a quick look.

“No, I’m serious. Oliver. I don’t know what happened to you there, and I will never know. But the Oliver I knew wouldn’t lift a finger to help an old lady crossing the road. Now you are saving the city with a bow and arrows? You are out of your mind, my friend.”

“Tommy, that is enough.” Laurel raised her voice. “Let’s talk about this later, okay?”

“Tommy, Laurel.” Oliver started quietly. “I’m ready whenever you want to talk. I don’t want to lose you two.”

“No, we are talking about it now.” Tommy raised his voice, moving his chair errantly. “You kill people mercilessly to get rid of killers, to save this city? Who is going to save the city from you?” he shouted, drawing the attention of a few patrons to their table. Laurel pulled his arm, trying to make him relax. “Oliver, I might be drunk now, you know how I’ve never been good with wine, but I know for a fact that you saved our lives and I’m grateful for that, but unless you can convince me you aren’t as bad as any of the crooks out there in this damned city, I won’t see you any better than them. That is what I think.” he brought his glass to his lips and gulped down the rest of his drink. “So yeah, there you have it. I won’t be your friend unless you convince me that you aren’t a murderer.” he whispered his last word and got on his feet, stumbling to get out of his chair and pull Laurel with him.

Oliver remained in his seat and watched his friends walk away from him once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay (again!). I was late with my writing and then ended up cooking an AU that wouldn't leave me so I ended up writing 10K for that instead of this!! Hope you guys still like this... This is short.


	17. Chapter 17

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

** Chapter 17 **

He felt his gun getting heavier in his hand as he remained behind his door, his eye on the peephole. He was waiting on his visitor to make an attempt to knock on the door or ring the bell to open the door, but no such attempt was made in the last five minutes. Knowing his visitor, he figured they would be standing in the same position for hours unless he took the initiative himself. Oliver Queen was stubborn, he had grown to learn.

“Oliver.” His voice was stern as he finally unlocked and opened the door. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks.” He saw a coy smile on his face. “I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d pay a visit.”

“The mansion is 20 miles north and the foundry is 5 miles east of here.” Diggle said. “Do you really want me to believe that?” He opened the door wider and stepped back. “Come on in.” he gestured. “Do you want a beer? I was just watching the game.”

He closed the door after Oliver walked inside in hesitant steps, with his head bowed down but taking in every detail of his apartment; it was something he did himself whenever he walked into a foreign setting. You could take the soldier away from the war, but the war still remained in their daily life, in every step they took. There was so much detail and planning in every action. Even though he knew Oliver had never been in a real warzone like he had himself, he had grown to know that he lived his every moment like he was in a battle. He also knew that it was why he still hadn’t apologized to him even though Diggle know at this point that it didn’t matter anymore.

Spending his days away from the foundry, away from the Hood, he realized how much he sought the thrill of a chase, the pride he felt when they took down another bad guy, the change they started to make. Even though he had been hesitant at first, he now was appreciating Oliver’s quest to make Starling City a better place even though Oliver himself wasn’t aware of the good, despite his methods, he was bringing. Oliver wasn’t the easiest person to work with; he had his own set of priorities that he refused to change regardless of how they affected other people, he constantly blamed himself for anything that went wrong even though it was out of his hands, he tried to atone sins that weren’t his to begin with. He was trying to change his ways though, he had seen him. He was more open even though his five years on the island were still a taboo, he was more considerate and he was putting more thought into his actions.

Witnessing the subtle change in Oliver as he became more human and stepped away from being the killing machine who lied to his face numerous times was another reason that kept Diggle wanting to help him with his vigilante activities. He saw a part of himself in Oliver, a part that was in the risk of getting lost and he wanted to help out the man he now was slowly considering a friend. Sure, they were not friends in the traditional sense since Oliver didn’t talk to him about his personal life or inquired about his, but they had a mutual trust growing, something he had been wary of himself ever since leaving the battlefields behind and returning back to his home country. He knew he needed to thank Felicity Smoak for helping out with that aspect.

Oliver refused to sit and instead stood by the bookcase, not looking at him while Diggle sat at the couch and turned down the volume of the TV. “Dr. Smoak was here yesterday, she was concerned for you.” he said which brought Oliver’s attention back to him. “You two had a fight?” he asked and Oliver nodded in response. “She didn’t tell me what it was about, and I’m not going to ask you either. It’s between the two of you.” he said and finally added what was bothering him. “You really shouldn’t have taken her out to a mission, she is a civilian.”

“She insisted.” he answered immediately as he took a step forward. “I wasn’t very keen on the idea myself but she had the specific set of skills I needed and didn’t have at the time.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Don’t do it next time.” he said, his voice stern. “Oliver, why are you here?”

Oliver finally looked at him. “To apologize.” His voice was low.

He couldn’t hide his sarcasm. “That must be a first, you apologizing.”

“I’m sorry, John. I should have listened to you. You’re my partner and I disregarded your one request. I should have gone after Deadshot. He killed your brother; your blood and family. It’s just that...” he paused. “I was going to do this all by myself and I had readied myself for that. I wasn’t expecting a partner in you. I – I can be stubborn and have a one-track mind. I want things to go my way and don’t know what to do when they don’t. I was alone on that island for so long that I forgot how other people operated, how my actions affected others.” He shook his head toward Diggle. “I’m sorry.”

Diggle just looked at him, taking a sip from his beer. “You know, we're getting dangerously close to hug territory so I'm going to fall back.” he commented with a smirk. That got a laugh out of Oliver. “It’s fine, man. You are fighting a war, except you have no idea what war does to you, how it scrapes off little pieces of your soul. You need someone to remind you, of who you are.”

“Thank you.” Oliver said. “After Deadshot, there’ll be no more killings. No more bodies.”

“Are you sure?” Diggle asked, surprised.

“Yes.” Oliver nodded. “I can’t honor my father by killing people in his name. I need to find another way.”

Diggle nodded. “Alright. I’m in. We’ll find another way.”

“Thanks, Diggle.” Oliver said.

“I will see you in the foundry tomorrow.” Diggle responded in a clear tone. He got on his feet. Oliver didn’t say anything else and just made his way to the door and was gone. Diggle watched him from his window as he walked to his motorbike in determined steps and sped away from his street.

She unlocked her door and walked inside, making her way to the kitchen in knowing steps in the darkness. She put the paper bags on the counter, reaching on her toes to take out the contents and one by one, placed them into her fridge. The light coming from the fridge made her notice something and she turned to her side to see a figure standing by the doorway. She screamed.

“It’s me, Felicity.”

“Oliver, fuck.” she blurted out, trying to calm herself down. “Do you want to frighten me to death?”

“It wasn’t my intention.” he said as he switched on the lights. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you apologizing to me for scaring the shit out of me now or in general, you know, for bailing on me like that the other day?”

“Both.” he said with his head bowed down as he took a step into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. Either of them.” He came next to her by the counter and started helping her by picking out the contents of the bags and handing them to her. “Diggle told me you went to his place yesterday.”

“Yeah, I spent the night. I mean, not spent the night. I did spend the night, but it wasn’t like what you think. There was no sleeping involved.” she paused. “I mean, we slept, how else should we function? We slept, but not slept together. I was on the couch, he was in his bed… My brain comes up with the worst things.” She looked to the ceiling. “I went to his apartment to chit-chat and it was late and I fell asleep, that’s it.”

“You don’t have to explain.” Oliver said, placing a hand on her shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad you talk to Diggle.”

“Yeah, I can talk to him. I can talk with anyone but you, apparently.”

“I do talk with you.” Oliver defended.

She took a breath, closing the door of the fridge. “Just because you feel some sort of responsibility to talk to me about your problems because I was your psychiatrist doesn’t mean we really talk, Oliver.” she took one of the paper bags. “Yes, we compete about worst date stories, but that isn’t what real friends do. They tell each other about personal things.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” Oliver raised his voice, grabbing the paper bag harshly from her hands.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Felicity shouted.

“I told you about things I’ve never told anyone else, and you’ve yet to tell me why you put sugar on your pasta, which looks disgusting by the way, or anything about your family.” Oliver shouted back. Then he took a breather, looking at her. “Felicity, I’ve known you for a relatively short time and I know we got on the wrong foot with me lying to your face during our sessions, but I consider you a friend right now. You’re my friend, I trust you, I trust you with my life and in case you haven’t noticed, trust doesn’t come easily for me. Yet I do trust you, but I don’t know anything about you. That’s not how friendship works, I’m sure you are aware of it.”

Felicity was stunned. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead she just stormed out of the kitchen, walking towards the living room. Oliver followed.

“Aren’t you even going to show me the courtesy of responding?”

“Oliver… can we just stop arguing? You’re right, and I’m sorry. It’s just…” She took off her glasses and collapsed on the armchair. “I appreciate your friendship, I really do, but there are things I’m not ready to share yet. I promise, when the time comes, when I feel ready, you’ll get every juicy detail about my life. I mean, there isn’t really anything juicy, I’ve had a pretty not-scandalous life. I haven’t peed on a cop or anything.”

Oliver started laughing and sat down opposite to her. “It’s fine, Felicity.” he said, leaning over to grab her hand. “I’ll be here whenever you are ready.”

She smiled shyly at him and pulled her hand away. “Thanks.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry again, for walking away that day. You were right. I don’t wanna be a killer anymore.” He looked at her. “Like a good friend told me once, I need to find another way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, everyone! Now that I am done with "Surreal But Nice", I am back to working full time on Rivers and Roads, my baby. I am planning to complete writing it before late January, before I start grad school, but I highly doubt it's going to be the case... I'm going to try though.
> 
> Many thanks for reading!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short but is probably my favorite chapter.

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

** Chapter 18 **

Being away from everyone you loved and knew meant that you would not remember them all the time. When your mind was made up to survive and make it through the night, memories faded away one by one. The moments you held dear would disappear from your mind, until something triggered them.  
  
When he saw McKenna for the first time in a decade, standing by a wall opposite to him, standing tall with her hair long and a smile on her face, memories flooded his mind.  
  
McKenna in those damn shorts playing lacrosse, shoving another girl to the ground. McKenna taking glances at him by her locker and then sending a note to him in class. Chemistry class, he remembered. McKenna and him on a beach, under the endless dark sky, the last day of summer.  
  
It was the summer before they started college, his first college. It had been Tommy and him the whole summer in the Merlyn summer house. He didn't remember most of their nights spent under a haze of alcohol and illegal things they shouldn't be doing but that one night, he remembered in detail.

Tommy was throwing their third end of summer party, the last one. It was the usual setup with kegs of beer bought with fake IDs, pits of fire and girls clad in bikinis. The weather was chillier than it had been, and there she was, in a long summer dress, standing by herself under a willow tree, looking not at the crowd but up to the night sky.

He remembered trying to gather up the courage to go talk to her by taking a shot of something within his reach that burned his throat and walking up to her after having a silent conversation with Tommy by glancing and nodding.

She had shivered when he stopped by him, making him give up his jacket and place it on her shoulders, a douchey move he had seen from movies Thea loved so much. He remembered saying a cliché thing about the night sky, garnering a small laugh from her, then grabbing two bottles of beer and following her down to the beach.

He remembered the beach devoid of people, the fire warming his hands, the waves crashing, the moonlight on McKenna’s face. He didn't remember what they talked about, but he remembered the moonlight and the ocean. He remembered being happy in the moonlight, with her.

As his eyes drew her in, looking at her up and down, he remembered not kissing her because she was leaving for college on the East Coast and he was going back home. He had regretted it afterwards, but the idea hadn't crossed his mind again in years. She had never crossed his mind on the cold nights of the island, as he sat on the beach on his own in front of a fire he built himself, looking at the ocean, shivering. Now the memory of that one night was playing over and over in his head as groups of people walked between them.

Just as he was about to make a move towards her, his eyes caught something golden and shining fastened to her belt at her waist and the memories hit and he realized why it didn't work back then and would never work with her now.

He turned away, took a step to leave and disappear into the crowds before she would catch his eyes and recognize him, but it was too late and she was already calling out his name. He turned on his heels to face her and forced a smile.  
  
Later that night, he was sitting across from her under the low lights, with that smile still on his face. “How’s your dad doing?”

“He’s worried about me. He still hasn’t realized that his little girl prefers chasing after criminals more than chasing eligible bachelors.” she ran her fingers around her wine glass. “He was happy to hear that you are alive.” The waiter brought their soufflé to the table and she picked up her fork immediately to dig in. “No. No, it’s not possible for something to be this good.” she moaned with her eyes closed. “You must have missed soufflés.”

“What do you mean?” Oliver gave her a look given that he didn’t share her opinion on the dessert.

“Five years on an island, away from civilization.” she prompted. “What did you do? What did you eat? Where did you sleep?”

Oliver leaned to the table, looked away from her. “McKenna.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to drill you.” she said, taking another bite. “I just haven’t had a conversation with a guy in a while without it resulting me reading him his rights.” she smiled. “Those years… they must have changed you… from the guy I used to party with to who you are now.”

Memories from the island flashed his mind now. Getting shot with Yao Fei’s arrow. Getting his abdomen sliced by Wintergreen. Being beaten. Starving. Getting drenched in the cold rain. He took a deep breath to chase those memories away and focused on McKenna. “Yeah. I had to make some tough choices.” he answered in all the honesty he could muster, looking in her eyes. Seeing the change in her expression, he looked away, to the bar. He noticed a familiar blonde sitting. Looking to the bar, he continued. “You’re right, it did change me.”

“What kind of tough choices?”

He cut in before she could ask more. “I don’t wanna talk about those experiences, McKenna.” At the exact second she realized where he was looking at, her cell phone rang.

“Saved by the cell.” she said and fished for her phone in her purse. “Sorry, I need to take this.” While she talked on the phone about what seemed to be a police matter, he took the opportunity to look at Felicity and figure out what she was doing by herself at the bar. “I need to leave.” McKenna said as she got on her feet. “And I think you want to go see your blonde friend over there.”

Oliver groaned. He rested on the back of the chair and watched as she left without looking back. He made a gesture for the bill to the waiter and got on his feet, handing over his credit card and walked over the bar. Felicity had her hair down, her back to him. The seat next to her was empty, he sat down and turned towards her.

“Just because a girl is sitting alone at a bar doesn’t mean she wants attention.” she said out loud without even looking at him. “Thanks, but I’m not interested.”

“I’m sorry Felicity, I’ll leave.” he told her, getting on his feet.

“Oh, Oliver, I’m sorry.” She turned to him and placed a soft grip on his wrist. “Two other guys came over before, I was just trying to fend off anyone with an idea. Not because I thought you were hitting on me, I didn’t look to see who it was.” she said all in the same breath. “What are you doing here?”

“I was…” he paused. “I was on a date.” he breathed out. “She left.”

A smile appeared on her face. “Go you!” she cheered, patting his arm. “For getting out there I mean, on the dating scene, not for getting ditched.” she muttered. “Why did she leave?” she asked, suddenly concerned.

“Work emergency.” he replied, then asked for a glass of scotch from the bartender.

“Sorry to hear that.” she commented, looking concerned. “Is she working in the ER or something?”

He pursed his lips. “Cop.”

She did something he didn’t anticipate; she burst out laughing. “Are you trying to win the worst date game by dating a cop? Because if so, it doesn't work like that. Do you know how wrong that is given how you spend your nights?”

“Hey!” he protested, unable to stop the smirk appearing on his face. “I used to have a crush on her back in high school. I tried to avoid her, but I couldn’t stop it.” he tried to explain but she wouldn’t stop laughing. She was right, he knew it very well. He knew better not to be involved with a cop, but it was one of the times when he just couldn’t find a way out of a social encounter. He was grateful that McKenna had a demanding job and had to leave. “What are you doing here anyway?” he asked Felicity when she finally stopped laughing and asked for another drink.

She took her time to answer as she took sips from her cocktail. “It’s my birthday.”

He arched an eyebrow. “It’s your birthday?” he asked and she gave a shrug in response. “Happy birthday, Felicity.”

“Thanks.” she smiled, placing an arm on the bar and placing her head on it.

“So is this how you celebrate?”

“I usually spend it at home eating a pint of mint chip, but I decided to treat myself this year.” she responded, focusing on her glass. “It’s not a big thing.”

He sighed. “Felicity, it’s your birthday, it’s a big thing.” he said but she shrugged again. Then he did something he wasn’t planning on. He grabbed her hand. “Come on, we are leaving.” She gave him a questioning look and tried to pull herself away but he ignored it. “We’re going to celebrate your birthday the right way.” he said as he dragged her away with him and helped her get in her coat.

He didn’t think about McKenna again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter almost 3 months ago at 3AM on my phone jetlagged. Hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Check out the other 5+1 I posted the other day. It features Felicity and shoes.


	19. Chapter 19

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

** Chapter 19 **

The one memorable birthday Felicity Smoak had celebrated took place when she was turning four; the problem was that she couldn’t remember it. Her parents had taken her to Disneyland and according to the photos featuring her wearing the ears with a smile on her face, she was happy. That was the last good birthday she had had. Until now.

She was sitting on the rooftop of the old Queen factory in the cold of February with a jacket that was too big for her over her own coat, her legs dangling off the ledge, a bottle of a 1982 Lafite Rothschild raised to her lips, overlooking the Starling City skyline. “This is so good.” she said and handed over the bottle, watching her breath creating a cloud of smoke in the cold. “It feels wrong to just drink it out of the bottle.”

“You were the one who refused glasses.” he commented as he took a sip himself. “I can go get them, if you like.”

“No.” she protested. “I’m perfectly fine. A little tipsy, but fine. And I’m not cold anymore. Thank you, alcohol.”

He smiled. “Glad you are doing fine.”

“I’m doing great. Thank you, Oliver.” She gave him a genuine smile back. “You really didn’t have to do this. I can’t even imagine how expensive this wine is, yet you just opened it like it was a two-buck chuck.”

“I wanted to do something special for your birthday.” he responded. “I’d have done something better if you told me about it before.”

“I told you, it’s nothing big.” she repeated her earlier comment, taking back the wine. “It’s just another day in the year and a new addition to my sum of years of existence on this earth.”

“You’re too young to sound this bitter about it.” Oliver suggested. “Birthdays are happy occasions.”

“I’m a year younger than you are. Birthdays are a scam to make people spend more money, I am pretty sure there is research on it with historical data. And did you even celebrate birthdays on the island?” she asked and he shook his head. “That’s what I thought.”

“That’s because I didn’t have a calendar and I didn’t know what day it was.” he replied curtly, grabbing the bottle and taking a gulp. “I didn’t know about months. And the weather was the same year long, so that didn’t help either. It was just humid and rainy. Cold.”

“I’d take rain and humidity over this freezing weather any time of the day. I’m from the desert, it’s been years but I still can’t deal with the cold.” Felicity said, trying to change the topic. “I didn’t see snow until I was 17 and moved to Massachusetts for university.”

“You went to university when you were 17?” Oliver asked back.

“That’s what you take away from that story?” she questioned with a smile. “Usually people get surprised about me never seeing snow before, not about going to university too early.”

“I didn’t see snow for five years. I’d forgotten how it looked like.” Oliver commented nonchalantly, handing back the bottle. Almost half of it was already gone. “So you were 17 when you got super drunk that one time and woke up at the frat house’s yard?”

“Yes.” she nodded, blushing in the cold. “It hasn’t snowed much this year.” she commented, changing the conversation back to the topic of snow. “We used to get snow storms in Cambridge, now those were scary, especially for someone who moved there without a coat and wearing flip-flops. I learned from my mistakes immediately and invested in some good boots and a sturdy coat early in October. I still can’t believe how cold it would get there so early in the fall.”

“That’s the northeast for you.” Oliver said. “I was there, for a while.”

“One of your colleges were there, right?”

“The second one. I wanted to be away from the west coast for a while. Good school, bad people.”

“Why would you say that?” Felicity reacted. “Many of the nation’s best universities are in Massachusetts.”

“No, the schools are great. It’s the people at the schools. Too many jocks. Too many frat boys.”

“Weren’t you a frat boy?” she smirked, then took a big sip from the wine. “I still can’t believe how good this wine is. I’ve read about it, but never had the pleasure to taste it before. Thank you again.”

It was Oliver’s turn with the bottle. “My pleasure. The liquor stock here at Verdant and my family’s wine cellar are at your service whenever you please.”

“That is very generous of you, Mr. Queen. I’ll take that to consideration. And by consideration I mean I’ll ask for vintage wine as much as I can. You spoiled me with this.” she slurred. She couldn’t help but feel the warmth of the alcohol in her veins. “Your birthday is in May, right? We should celebrate, the wine will be on me.” She smiled. “Just don’t ask for anything too expensive.” she added.

“I’ll take you on your offer when the day comes. I won’t ask for pricey wine, I promise.”

“Who would have known I’d spend my birthday with Starling City’s one and only vigilante? I wouldn’t.” she said, reaching for the wine again. The bottle slipped from her hands covered with dark purple, wool gloves, but in a quick maneuver, she was able to keep it from dropping. “Whoops.” she laughed, then took another sip. “I’m glad you aren’t wearing your hood. I like seeing your face, it’s a nice face. Did I just say that out loud?”

“It’s OK, Felicity.” he said. “Are you sure you don’t wanna go downstairs or at least inside?”

“No.” she shook her head. “The city is so pretty like this. It looks safe and doesn’t smell bad.”

He nodded in agreement, joining her to look over the city. “You can forget about the corruption that’s killing it from up here.”

She straightened herself. “Oh my, Oliver, I’m keeping you away from your vigilante activities, aren’t I?” Her tone was rushed. “I’m so sorry. Go, go.”

“It’s fine, Felicity.” he reassured her. “Criminals can take a break from The Hood while we celebrate your birthday.”

“You know it’s not a good thing to refer to yourself in the third person, right? Did I warn you about that? I should. You refer to yourself as Oliver Queen. Or as the Hood, which I still think is a terrible nickname. I mean, yes, you do wear a huge hood that somehow covers your head all the time – do you have a fastener that keeps it attached to your head?” she paused, handing the bottle. “I don’t think the hood is your most distinctive attribute as the vigilante. I think it’s your green costume. Or your arrows. Definitely your arrows.”

“I’ll make sure the media knows about it.” he laughed. “I’ll try not to refer to myself in third person.”

“Great.” she smiled. “I shouldn’t have mixed my alcohol. I don’t get drunk on wine usually.”

“Let me take you home.” Oliver offered and she nodded. He got on his feet and held out a hand for her to hold. Slowly he pulled her to her feet, careful to avoid any quick movements since she was so close to the edge. “Careful.” he said when she tripped. He put his hands on her waist to steady her. “I’ll drop you with my motorcycle, is that OK? Digg can bring your car tomorrow.”

“It’s fine.” Felicity replied as they made their way downstairs. She tried to hand his coat back but it dropped from her shoulders. “I’m sorry for being drunk.” she said when Oliver bended to pick up the coat.

“You should have seen me on my birthdays from before. This is nothing in comparison.” Oliver replied. “Give me your keys.” he said and instead she handed her pursed to him. Laughing to himself, he opened the small purse and fished for the metal feel of the keys instead of looking at the contents himself for reasons of privacy. When they made it near her car, parked at the back of the factory, a privy place away from the patrons of Verdant, Oliver asked Felicity to wait by her car while he went downstairs to hand her keys to Diggle.

He was back in moments after leaving a confused Diggle behind. He found Felicity leaning against her red car. “You’re back.” she murmured and walked toward him. “Look at the time, it’s no longer my birthday.” she said.

“Only by a couple of minutes.” Oliver said as he took his keys out. He handed her the spare helmet. “Put this on and hold on to me tight, alright? Move as the bike moves. We’ll be by your house before you know it.”

“Thanks Oliver.” she said with a smile and placed the helmet on her head sloppily, leaving locks of her blonde hair sticking out of it. Oliver fixed the helmet for her, making sure it was fastened properly. She didn’t hesitate as she sat behind him and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

He rode fast but also very carefully for fear that Felicity’s current intoxication would make her lose her grip on him and fall. He was grateful that she was still in one piece, holding him with the same intensity when he pulled before her house ten minutes later.

He helped her get off the motorcycle and walk to her house. Given he was more used to using the porch door than the front door, it was a strange sensation to unlock her door and enter into the dark house together with her.

Felicity stumbled her steps, then leaned down to take off her shoes. She was shorter standing before him barefoot and he took his time to examine how small she looked. She walked further into the house while he preferred to stay by the door, but then she gave him a look as she struggled to take off her coat and gestured him to follow her.

“Let’s get you to bed.” he suggested as he picked up her discarded coat and placed a hand on her waist to guide her towards the stairs, up to her bedroom.

She stepped inside her bedroom, the second door on the left he noted, unceremoniously while he waited by the door, waiting for any kind of acknowledgement that he was welcome inside. He had never seen her bedroom before even though he had been to the house several times and even fell asleep on the couch waiting for her arrival that one time.

“I need to ask something.” Felicity started as she got on her bed on her knees and crawled to the middle. Oliver took that as his invite and stepped inside, his eyes looking around, taking account of his surroundings in the darkness. “I’m sorry for being drunk and being a pain in your butt today. I mean, you have a really nice butt, so I don’t mind it.” she continued then stopped. “I shouldn’t have said that. I told you, I really shouldn’t have mixed my drinks.”

“It’s fine, Felicity.”

“Yeah, yeah.” she responded and laid down on the bed. “Was this a date?”

Her question took him off-guard. He had been on a date himself, a stupid move on his part given how dangerous it would have been if his cop date ever suspected him of his vigilante activities. He had also been promptly ditched by his date. The whole thing seemed light years ago even though it was only hours ago. Then he had been with Felicity and he had fun. It was fun to see Felicity unabridged and uninhibited, even if it had been due to the effects of alcohol. Deep down, he wanted to see more of that, to enjoy her, to be around her, to laugh with her, to touch her. To kiss her.

That last thought shook him. Where did it come from? Yes, Felicity was fascinating, remarkable. She was smart, probably the smartest person he had ever known, she was courageous and direct, she refused to be pushed over and saw through his layers. She was beautiful. While he was sure at a conscious level he had never realized it, he knew deep down that he had always been attracted to her ever since he had stepped into her office and realized that his psychiatrist was a woman in a pink shirt with matching pink lipstick. He remembered feeling a jolt of allure upon seeing her. Now months later, standing in her bedroom, no longer burdened by the stigma of being her patient, he was questioning himself.

Was that a date? He tried thinking about his previous first dates, apart from the disaster he had lived through earlier. He thought about the disastrous first date with Laurel. He remembered trying to charm other girls by taking them to fancy restaurants and then getting into their pants. He thought about being with girls and never actually taking them on any dates. Sitting with Felicity on the roof of his father’s old factory where he now ran his operations from, taking sips from a wonderful bottle of wine that was smeared with her lipstick, he realized that none of his earlier attempts at dates had been as fun and interesting – and easy. She was very easy to talk with and he enjoyed their conversations. Was it a date? He didn’t know, but he knew that even though he was now in her bedroom, he wasn’t trying to get in her bed, so that was different.

“No.” he muttered out. “You wouldn’t be drunk now if it was, and you’d know very well that it was a date.”

“Great.” she smirked, lifting her head up. “I didn’t want it to be a date because you were my patient.” she said and dropped her head back on the bed. Seconds later, she was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * dun dun dun *
> 
> Here is another chapter, probably the last one for this year. Thank you all so much for still sticking with this! I will be starting grad school in a month so my plan is to finish writing this story by then and publish chapters sporadically... here's hoping I can do that actually.
> 
> Happy Holidays everyone and I wish everyone a great new year! May 2015 be the year of Oliver&Felicity being together and happy, and not having Oliver lying dead on a mountaintop somewhere and Felicity mourning! If you'll excuse me, I'll go cry myself to sleep again.


	20. Chapter 20

 

 

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

 

** Chapter 20 **

The tall building looked menacing as she looked up and eyed the big ‘QC’ logo at the very top of it. She took a breath and walked inside, making it through the security after being told to go to the fortieth floor. She kept taking deep breaths as she rode the elevator up, trying to ignore other people entering and exiting as she fought with the fear of heights she didn’t know she had until she was asked to meet Moira Queen in her office.

She stumbled out of the elevator and was grateful when she felt concrete under her feet. She ran a hair through her ponytail, pushed her glasses and walked towards the desk on her right.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Felicity Smoak, I had a meeting with Mrs. Queen?” she introduced herself to the red haired assistant. Before the assistant could look up the schedule and confirm the meeting like Eleanor would, she heard heels clicking on the floor coming closer and Moira Queen in all her glory stepped out from her glass office.

She stopped next to her. “Dr. Smoak, thanks for coming on such short notice.” The slightly shorter woman held out a hand and shook hers lightly. It was her first time meeting Mrs. Queen and Felicity already felt on edge. She was impeccably dressed, a vision of elegance and confidence with her pearls in a tailor-made suit. Felicity, for a second, felt underdressed then pushed aside the feeling and followed her into the office.

“I don’t have many patients on Mondays so it wasn’t much of a problem.” she replied as she sat down on what seemed to be a designer chair in front of the desk with the glass top. “I was surprised that you called me, to be honest, but then again, knowing what you are going through, I’m grateful that you called me.”

Moira Queen sat down herself as well and just looked at her. “Oh, thank you, but I didn’t call you for that. I don’t need therapy to cope with the fact that my husband is missing.” she said with a smile, which Felicity found out of place. “I already have my therapist, and I wouldn’t be calling you here if I needed your services.”

“O-kay.” Felicity responded, rather taken aback. Ever since Walter Steele was kidnapped, she had been trying to help out Oliver by trying to get him to talk to her as much as he could to make sure that his feelings were not bubbled inside. Regardless of the awkward ending to her impromptu birthday celebration with him, she was glad that Oliver was still coming to her. Her reasoning for Moira Queen's invitation to meet her in the office was to talk about Walter's kidnapping, as well. “I just assumed that you needed somebody to talk to.”

“You assumed incorrectly, Dr. Smoak.” Mrs. Queen blurted. “I was having a meeting with my accountants and I was told that your office never charged my family, or the company for Oliver’s sessions.”

“That’s correct.” Felicity nodded.

“And instead there are some rather heavy expenses made to a certain…” she paused to put on her glasses and read a piece of paper. “Dr. Alberto?”

“Professor.” Felicity corrected. “Yes, that’s true.”

Taking her glasses off, Moira Queen gave a look that made Felicity feel like she was sizing her up. “Why is that?” she asked. Before answering, Felicity took her opportunity to examine the woman sitting before her. With her dark blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, the resemblance to Oliver was uncanny. She even had a mole above her mouth, similar to Oliver’s. She was short but confident in posture, her image screaming CEO. The way she eyed Felicity and her tone, on the other hand, seemed to tell Felicity that there was so much more about Moira Queen than what seemed on the surface. Something darker, she couldn’t help but notice. Oliver had a similar vibe of his own but whereas his was related to the suffering and pain he had gone through over the years, Mrs. Queen’s was, in a word, ominous.

“If your accountants looked into other things, they would have seen some payments made to me, well to my university, some years ago.” she started. “Your husband gave me a scholarship.”

“Walter?”

“No, your former husband, Mr. Queen.” Felicity answered. “He paid my tuition and after his… demise, your company continued paying for it. I offered my services to help your family after the accident but I was kindly declined. I was just trying to return the favor in the best way I knew.”

“That’s very generous of you, Dr. Smoak, but really unnecessary. We really don’t need your charity work.”

Felicity struggled her hardest to keep down the rage bubbling inside. “It wasn’t charity.” she muttered. “I was helping Oliver out.”

“Oliver?” Moira Queen questioned.

“Mr. Queen.” Felicity corrected herself again. “I might have made your family doctor recommend me as his therapist when he came back town.”

“And if that is the case, why are we paying this Professor Alberto?” Mrs. Queen asked. “Why does my son need two therapists?”

“Because we concluded our sessions.” she answered. “Professor Alberto is my mentor and is the leading psychiatrist in the city for patients suffering from PTSD.” she added, explaining the situation.

“Why would you end your sessions?” Mrs. Queen demanded, ignoring her explanation. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“That’s something I can’t discuss with you Mrs. Queen, I’m afraid.” Felicity started. “It’s confidential.”

“I understand.” she nodded and got on her feet. She walked over and stood before Felicity, then leaned against the desk. “Dr. Smoak, I know how my son can be. I’ve seen that he changed over the last five years he was away from me, but he is still his father’s son.” She looked directly into her eyes. “I see how women looks at him, I can’t blame you if that’s the reason why you stopped being his therapist while it seems it was your idea to become my son’s therapist in the first place.”

“Mrs. Queen, did you invite me here to accuse me of having feelings for your son? Which I don’t, by the way.” Felicity got on her feet. “We aren’t continuing our sessions for reasons I can’t share with you. He isn’t seeing Professor Alberto any more, too. He’s got better.”

“Oh, so that’s your excuse for not doing your job properly Dr. Smoak?” Moira Queen said. “I can have you benched for inappropriate conduct with one phone call.”

“How dare you?” Her voice was louder than she intended. “I’m not going to sit down here and listen to you berate me while you should be dealing with more important things, like the disappearance of your husband! You seem to be handling it extremely well whereas other people in your shoes would be distraught. I know Oliver is, even though he hasn’t fully made peace with the fact that you married Mr. Steele.” she paused. “It’s my job and I shouldn’t be sharing what Oliver thinks. Unless there is something else you’d like to accuse me for, I’m leaving Mrs. Queen.”

When no words came from the older, shorter but scary woman, she turned on her heels, pulled the glass door with all her might and made a move for the elevator but instead ran into a wall of muscle. She bit the insides of her cheeks to stop herself from shouting and tried to push herself away. She looked up and came eye to eye with Oliver. She had forgotten that he worked in the company while he wasn’t busy chasing down criminals.

“Felicity, what are you doing here?” he asked as he placed both hands on her shoulders to steady her.

She didn’t want to answer and just wanted to leave. She wanted to shove him off and go back to her office, but he was obviously stronger than her. “I can see where you got your wild imagination, your lying skills from.” she muttered without looking at him. “Your mom loves making up things. If you ever suspected her for something, you might be right.”

“What?” Oliver questioned and led her to the elevator, away from the prying eyes of his mother’s assistant. “Felicity, did my mother ask you here?” he asked as Felicity stood on the other corner of the elevator and finally looked up at him, answering his question. “Why?”

“I thought she needed help dealing with the whole her husband being missing situation, but I was wrong.” she breathed out.

“What happened?” he asked, taking a step towards her.

“In your mother’s reasoning, I didn’t charge you and your family for our sessions and stopped the said sessions is because I have feelings for you. It’s absurd.” she shrugged. “Your family is just one big Shakespearean drama, Oliver.” she gave him a tight-lipped smile.

Oliver narrowed his eyes. “What?” he asked as they reached the ground floor.

“You know, Hamlet? Mr. Steele marrying your mom? Claudius? Gertrude? There is even a shipwreck! Were you ever in Denmark?”

“I didn’t study Shakespeare in any of the four school I dropped out of.” he smiled at her as they made their way together outside the company building. “Felicity, I’m sorry about what my mother said. She is distressed, she wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“Oliver, I make a living out of deciphering people’s emotions and believe me, your mother wasn’t distressed about her husband’s disappearance. She actually seemed like… don’t hate me for saying this, but, she seemed like she really wasn’t concerned with it at all. Like it was all a regular occurrence? I mean with what your family went through in the last five years, I’m pretty sure her emotional threshold is all over the place, but believe me when I tell you, she wasn’t concerned at all about your step-father being missing.”

Oliver listened and nodded as they walked towards Felicity’s car parked a couple of blocks away. It wasn’t the first time he was hearing someone talk about how his mother not being the person she seemed. Just earlier in the day, Diggle had mentioned how she might be involved with something they discovered as The Undertaking. He had arrived to QC to talk to his mother and see if he could sense something off about her. Now Felicity was suggesting that his mother wasn’t reacting as one should to their spouse’s disappearance. It wasn’t a coincidence.

“I believe you.” he found himself saying as they stopped at the traffic lights. “I’m looking into Walter’s disappearance.”

“I’m sorry Oliver, I really don’t want you to doubt your mother.” Felicity grabbed his hand, squeezing it, looking up at him. “It’s just the vibe she gave me. I’m still angry at her. She had no right.”

“No, she didn’t.” Oliver said as he threaded their fingers together. “You having feelings for me makes no sense, right?”

Felicity pulled her hand away immediately, as if his touch burned. The way he asked the question wasn’t accusatory or rhetoric, but it had a weight. She had her reasons for stopping to see Oliver as her patient, a reason they had both accepted and agreed. They were friends and she was a big supporter of his biggest secret. She wasn’t interested in complicating things.

So instead of replying, she didn’t say a thing and simply agreed when Oliver suggested to go to lunch. Instead of going to her car, they walked to the Big Belly Burger where they had met several times before. He ordered for them at the register as she sat down at a booth by the window.

Oliver came back and sat down several minutes later, handing her a milkshake she hadn’t ordered. She gave him a questioning look and instead he just nodded.

“Is this the I’m-sorry-my-mother-was-terrible-to-you milkshake?” she asked as she took a sip. “It’s good.”

Before he could answer, they heard a voice calling out Oliver’s name and both turned to see Thea Queen standing in front of them.

“Thea, what are you doing here?” Oliver asked as he stood up to hug his sister. Felicity had never seen the younger Queen in person but having met all the members of the Queen family, she could easily see the familiar features.

“Ever since you first brought me here, I keep coming back for the chili cheese fries.” she answered and then just sat in the mid-section of the booth, between the two of them. “Hi, I’m Thea. And you are?”

“Thea, this is Felicity Smoak.” Oliver replied for her, not using her title. Felicity thought him introducing her simply as a friend was giving too much information.

“Your therapist?” Thea questioned, looking at the both of them. “I’m sorry if I interrupted your session. I can just go.”

“Oh, no.” Felicity placed a hand on the younger Queen’s arm as she made a move to get up. “We aren’t doing a session. We were just about to have some lunch. Lunch between a patient and a doctor doesn’t look professional, but I assure you, I’m no longer Oliver’s doctor. Not that it makes any of this look any better.” she paused. “I’m going to stop now. Sorry. Please join us. I’m going to leave after getting some food in my belly.”

Thea started laughing. “I like you.” she said. “Ollie, can you order me some fries? Please?” she nudged her brother’s shoulder and when Oliver got up to go to the register, she turned to Felicity. “So you are friends now?” she asked and before Felicity could respond, she continued. “That’s good. My brother doesn’t have many friends. Tommy told me that they are on bad terms, so I’m glad he still has some friends. He needs them. And a friend who happens to be female? That's an added bonus.”

Ready to hear another accusation coming from another Queen woman, Felicity was surprised to hear what Thea said with maturity she wasn’t expecting. “I know.” she found herself saying. “He is a good friend.”

“Did you talk to mom?” Oliver asked when he came back and sat down. “I was on my way to see her.”

“No.” Thea answered, taking a sip from her diet coke her brother brought. “She’s been at the company the whole day. She called me though, didn’t sound so upset.”

Oliver and Felicity shared a look. “She must be distressed.” Felicity suggested, using Oliver’s earlier words. “It’s not every day your husband gets kidnapped.” she added as their food arrived.

“It was more than that.” Thea said. “It sounded like she had accepted that he was gone for good. She wasn’t like that when you and dad…” she paused, looking at her brother. “Maybe Felicity can help?”

“Felicity already offered to help.” Oliver said. “Mom refused, said she has her own therapist.”

“It’s so cute that you speak for each other.” Thea blurted out. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to insinuate anything. You are friends.”

Felicity looked down but could feel Oliver’s eyes on her. “I should get going, I have a session then I need to run some errands.” she lied, placing her napkins in her plate. She grabbed her purse. “I’ll see you later.” She nodded at Oliver, then added “It was really nice meeting you, Thea.”

Without looking back, she got out of the restaurant and made it to her car in record time. She didn’t have any sessions given it was Monday, but she really needed to post some invoices and do her grocery shopping. She dropped by her office and grabbed the invoices and then drove to the post office. She was on her way to the grocery store when she remembered the farmer’s market and went there instead, spending her time around the fresh produce and vegetables. Her arms were already full when she received a text.

“I’m sorry about the women in my family.”

She smiled to herself as she replied back, asking him not to worry about it. Placing her bags in the small trunk of her car, she drove the grocery store next, spending hours in the aisles, something she had always loved ever since she was a child. Short on budget, her mother would investigate the shelves, making sure she was getting the most for the least amount of money, trying to use coupons to drop the total sum of the bill even lower. She was now able to afford anything she wanted, but old habits dying hard, something she knew and accepted even as a psychiatrist, she would still skim through the shelves to make sure she was getting the best quality at the best price.

It was already dark and hours later when she finally made it home, her arms full, stumbling through the door to make sure she didn’t drop anything. She flicked a light, half-hoping to see Oliver lurking somewhere in the shadows like he had done before, but it was empty. On a mission, she emptied the bags and filled her cabinets and fridge. She was almost done when her phone started ringing in her purse.

She answered the call with a smile, after checking the caller ID. “I thought you’d rather scare me to death by hiding in my living room.” she said.

A voice she didn’t expect instead replied. “Dr. Smoak? This is John Diggle.” Terror immediately filled her. “I need your help, can you please come to the foundry?”

Grabbing her purse, she left the house at once, never noticing the dark figure looking inside her house through the porch door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone, sorry for the delay! I spent this entire time writing and I think I am almost done with this story. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, leave a comment!


	21. Chapter 21

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

** Chapter 21 **

She saw the big black van and the familiar built of John Diggle open the door to lean down before she pulled over. She was rushing out of her car to the van as Diggle brought out a pale, unconscious Oliver from the back of the van. She locked her car with the remote and wrapped an arm around Oliver’s waist.

“What happened?” she asked but instead of answering, Diggle just walked them to the hidden back door. They were downstairs before she got her answer.

“I need your help, he’s hurt badly.” Diggle said in a rush as they laid Oliver on the metal table at the makeshift medical bay.

“I’m your girl.” Felicity replied. “I mean, I’m not your girl. I wasn’t making a pass at you.” she tried to correct herself.

The entire scene seemed too familiar to Felicity, reminding her of the night Oliver had first revealed himself to her. She grabbed the plastic gloves Diggle handed her and put them on while he took Oliver’s leather jacket off. There was a wound on Oliver’s shoulder, bleeding profusely. Wordlessly she picked up a gauze and poured some antiseptic over the wound while Diggle went through their medical tools.

“What happened?” she repeated.

“He went after his mother.” he replied, fuming through his nostrils. “I told him not to, but earlier today we found some evidence linking his mother to what we discovered as The Undertaking and he wanted to make sure.”

“His mother shot him?” she asked, unable to believe her ears. “It’s because of me.” She looked down at Oliver and ran her hand over his cheek, down to his jaw. His skin was cold under her fingertips but there was still a faint color to his cheeks.

“No.” Diggle shouted, placing a hand on her wrist, bringing her back to reality. “I’ll tell you more about it, but first, let’s bring him back.”

They worked together on Oliver’s shoulder, taking the bullet out and managing to stop the bleeding. His heart was beating at a normal pace and he hadn’t lost too much blood so when Felicity stitched him up, something she was never too comfortable to do so, all they had to do was to wait for him to wake up.

Diggle left Felicity alone with Oliver and went to the car to collect his equipment. She stood next to him, listening to his heartbeat coming from the monitor, steady and strong, and ran her fingers through his hair. She didn’t try to decipher the mix of emotions she had been feeling since she received Diggle’s call. They had had lunch together and then hours later, he was almost dying again. She still had too many questions, starting with why his own mother shot him, but instead she opted to listen to his heartbeats and then eventually placed her palm on his chest, against his heart and felt the warmth his body was restoring. She sighed and sank on to the stool next to the table.

Her eyes were about to close when she heard the sharp intake of breaths, then the heart monitor beeping loudly. She straightened up and looked at Oliver to see his eyes open, wild and unfocused. He was drenched in sweat and was struggling to breathe properly. He was trembling as he tried to rise in his place. She realized he was having a panic attack and tried placing a hesitant hand on his other shoulder, but he reacted to her touch and pulled himself away.

“Oliver, you’re okay, you’re having a panic attack.” she whispered to him. Ignoring his reaction, she started running her hands through his hair and down to his neck and continued whispering soothing things to him to bring him back, to make sure he felt safe. “Oliver.” she chanted his name. He was still breathing with difficulty, but the monitor indicated his heart was coming down to a slower pace. “Oliver, I’m here, you’re fine.” she told him. “Take a deep breath for five seconds, please, for me.” she pleaded. “Now, hold it for two seconds.” she asked and Oliver complied. “Now, exhale for five seconds.”

It took him a while, but Oliver stopped trembling and was able to take a deep breath on his own. She continued touching him in the softest way, continued whispering things to his ears, urging him to take deep breaths. He turned his head and looked at her, and their eyes met. He was calmer and his eyes were focused. He continued looking at her and she hugged him to herself, started running circles on his back with her fingertips.

“You’re fine.” she repeated. “Breathe Oliver, breathe.”

His heart was beating at a normal pace when she heard the door open, followed by footsteps on the metal stairs. Upon seeing them, Diggle dropped the bag on the floor in a thump and rushed to the table Oliver was on. She hoped he understood what was happening to Oliver, but the confusion on his face confirmed her suspicion that he probably never witnessed Oliver having a panic attack before.

“Oliver, Diggle is here.” she whispered, eyeing Diggle. “You’re fine, you are at the foundry. You’re safe.”

Under Diggle’s concerned looks, she continued hugging Oliver, wiping away the sweat on his forehead. She was careful with his shoulder, and knew the position they were in was painful for him, but Oliver seemed to ignore the pain and instead wrapped himself closer to her, placing his head against her chest, focusing on his breathing. She placed a soft peck on his forehead, then with one hand, she picked up the gray blanket they had placed under his head and put it on his shoulders.

“You’re fine.” she reprised. “I’m here, Diggle is here, nobody will hurt you.”

With Diggle’s help, she laid Oliver down on the table, tucking the blanket to his sides. She caressed his forehead and was happy to find out that he didn’t have a fever, an indication that his wound wasn't infected.

“Diggle, do you have some buprenorphine or some sort of a painkiller here? I know Oliver is very careful about what he puts in his body, but it can help him relax a bit.”

She cupped Oliver’s wrist as Diggle nodded and checked their inventory. He came back with a vial of codeine and a syringe and she administered a minimal dosage. Seconds later, Oliver’s eyes closed and he fell asleep.

“What happened?” Diggle asked as they stepped aside, towards where they had the computers. “I wasn’t gone for too long.”

“He had a panic attack.” she answered. “It’s not unusual, considering what he probably went through on the island, and what he is still going through. I’m surprised that it didn’t happen earlier. I mean he dresses in green leather and chases down criminals with archaic weapons, he clearly was going to react in a psychological way if the physical manifestations are any implication.” she rambled. “And he stopped his sessions. I mean, it was my fault, I stopped ours and then he didn’t have any progress Professor Alberto so he stopped seeing him, too, and I didn’t find him a replacement, then I told him about his mother-”

“Felicity.” Diggle stopped her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault. You help him. You’ve been helping him. He’s got better. He no longer kills, he looks for evidence before he takes action.” he explained. “He was on an island for five years, he suffered through loss. God knows what else he went through. I’ve been expecting this any second. I’m just glad you were with him.”

She nodded shyly, then looked over to Oliver. He was lying on his good side, his legs drawn up towards his torso. He looked peaceful. She smiled. “I just worry about him.” she admitted, feeling shy.

“You’re not the only one.”

“What happened?” she finally asked. “Why did his mother shoot him? I mean, she doesn’t seem like a saint, but I didn’t think she’d be into shooting people, especially her own son.”

“We’ve been looking for evidence for days to link his mother to the Undertaking, but Oliver kept denying even the possibility of her involvement. After you talked to him today, we went through phone records.” Diggle started. “His mother has been in contact with Malcolm Merlyn.”

“Tommy’s father.”

Diggle nodded. “They are working towards something together, something sinister, but we really don’t know what it is yet. So he suited up and went to his mother, to her office, as the Hood, to scare her into telling him the truth, instead she shot him in self-defense.”

“Oh my god.” she gasped. “His blood might be on the scene.” she said, then took out her phone and dialed a number in an urgency. “Yes, my badge number is 6484497-05. The blood sample from the Queen Consolidated crime scene, I need it to be brought to laboratory.” she spoke while Diggle gave her a look. “No, you listen to me, you’re going to do this now, or you’ll need to explain yourself to Detective Lance.” she roared. “Ok, thank you.”

“What was that?” Diggle asked when she hang up.

“They can do a test on the blood sample and find out it belongs to Oliver. I asked them to take it to the laboratory I have access to.” she started and continued before he could cut in. “No, I didn’t give out my real badge number, it’s a fake. I’ll go destroy the sample before they realize that it was fake.”

“Let me do that, you stay here with Oliver.” he suggested. “I can go in and out without anyone noticing.”

“Anyone can notice you, I mean, look at the size of your arms.” Felicity said, then realized what she said. “I didn’t mean to mean that… I’m sorry. Thanks for offering to go, you can be more discreet than I’ll ever be. Regardless of the size of your arms.”

“Sure thing, Felicity.” Diggle smiled. “I’ll be quick. Just tell me what I need to do.”

Ten minutes later, she was alone with Oliver at the basement. He was still asleep, still looking peaceful and she was grateful. The monitors showed breaking news about the Hood attacking Moira Queen. The woman who had accused her earlier in the day, who looked menacing in her elegant ways, looked scared and finally fitting to Oliver’s description of distressed. She was talking about how the Hood threatened her, how she begged for her life and her children’s and how she, in self-defense, aimed and shot the Hood. Felicity winced.

It was strange to see the woman who gave her so much trouble hours ago sounding so scared because of her own son. She wondered what she would do if she knew her assailant was Oliver. She knew Oliver’s reasons to go after his mother, she knew his methods of bringing the fear of god into a person to get the information he needed, but he had failed and now he had yet another scar, a new one caused by his mother. The whole event was traumatizing, but knowing Oliver, he would just disregard it and try to make her forget about it, including his panic attack. She needed to make sure he wouldn’t.

She walked over to the table Oliver was lying at, only to find him awake and looking at her with a slight smile. “Hey.” she said as she cupped his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot by my own mother.” he replied, his voice groggy. “Where is Diggle?”

“He went to destroy the blood sample found at the scene.” she answered as she placed an arm on him to help him sit. “Drink some water.” She handed him a bottle. “The bullet didn’t get deep, you were lucky.”

“Lucky enough to be shot by my mother.” he said sarcastically after he emptied the bottle. “Did Diggle call you?”

“Yeah, he asked for my help. I stitched you up and didn’t throw up. I’ve never been good with stitching, ever since that class where we had to stitch cadavers. You’d think a medical degree with those, but I still can’t get over that.”

He was smiling at him. “Thank you, for being here.” he said as he took the blanket off and examined the patch covering his wound. “It hasn’t bled through, which means you did a good job.”

“I tried.” she responded shyly, ignoring the fact that he was half-naked in front of her. “Oliver, you had a panic attack.” she mentioned, in an attempt to focus on other things. “Did you ever have one before? I need to know.”

He was silent for a moment. “Once, back on the island.” he answered. “I didn’t realize it as it was happening but then Shado helped me.”

“Shado?” she asked. During all of their conversations that involved the island, she had never heard Oliver mention anyone other than himself being there with him on the island.

“When I first got on the island…” he started, looking down. “I was shot by an arrow right after burying my father. Yao Fei, he shot me to help me.” He placed a hand on a scar right under his collar bone. “This was the first scar I got.”

She remained silent, not trying to react to the fact that Oliver had to bury Robert Queen, her benefactor, his own father. She had assumed, like anyone else, that the man had drowned and his body was somewhere in the depths of the China Sea. She just nodded her head to prompt him to go on. It was the first time Oliver was opening up about the island willingly and she didn’t want to interrupt him.

“Yao Fei, he took me to a cave and helped me recover. He was the first one to help me survive. There were mercenaries on the island. He used to work for them, for the mercenaries before I arrived, but then he escaped and he helped me hide from them. They kidnapped his daughter, Shado, to blackmail him into doing things for them, but then he got killed and I stayed with Shado.”

The brand new information she was hearing was as shocking as she had expected. Mercenaries, kidnapped daughters… those were things she hadn’t thought of when she thought of Oliver on the island. She had imagined hunger and lack of shelter and sanitation, despite the scars on his body that were the proof of hard times, but mercenaries were another story. It made all of her theories even scarier.

“Shado was the one to properly teach me how to use a bow.” he continued, his eyes distant. “She was strong and brave, she taught me a lot.” Then a slight smile appeared on his face and he looked at her. “You remind me of her, in more ways than I can admit.”

She scoffed. “I don’t believe that. I can’t hold a bow and I’d probably die in a day if I got stranded on an island. I’m too pale to be out in the sun. I’d just get sunburned and then die an agonizing death trying to lift a boulder.”

“You are strong.” Oliver said, his eyes soft, and held her hand. “You don’t realize it.”

“What happened to her?” she asked, enjoying the warmth that seemed to radiate from him.

The smile disappeared. “She died.” he admitted, getting on his feet.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” she offered and squeezed his hand. Their eyes met again. He looked so honest yet so vulnerable and pained that it broke her heart. She wanted to comfort him, she wanted to unburden him, she wanted to share his pain. She was grateful that he had opened up to her, even if it wasn’t in full detail. She was tempted to give him another hug when her cell phone started ringing. “Hi John.” she answered and listened as he informed her that he was able to destroy the sample. She sighed in relief.

“He got the sample?”

“Yeah, you are out in the clear.” she suggested. “I’d better be going. I mean, I could stay, but you are better now and Diggle is on his way back, and I need to go home to shower. I have two sessions early in the morning.”

“Thank you Felicity.” he said, his voice clear and sincere. He was gazing at her. “I really appreciate this. You saved my life, again.”

“Take care, Oliver.” She stood before him. “Don’t go after your mother, or any of your relatives again.” she smiled, then raised herself on her toes and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “Good night. I’ll see you later.”

She was gone before she could see Oliver holding his hand on the spot where she kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have only a little over a chapter I need to write before this story is finished, but with grad school going on, it might take a little longer than I wanted. Once I finish, I'll just post everything at once, I think, or weekly.
> 
> Many thanks for reading!


	22. Chapter 22

 

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

**Chapter 22**

He pumped his fist again. The night hadn’t turned out to be what he expected.

He was kneeling on the floor of the panic room inside the penthouse of the Merlyn Global building. In front of Tommy and Malcolm Merlyn. He had a tube flowing blood from his axillary vein into Malcolm’s. That hadn’t been in the plans.

He accompanied his mother to the gala thrown by the Mayor’s office to award Malcolm Merlyn as the humanitarian of the year. Knowing what he and his mother were up to, it was too ironic for Oliver. He still had a bandage over the wound caused by his own mother and he was now sitting next to her at the back of a limo driving to an event honoring her accomplice. It all felt wrong, but he needed to keep appearances. It was one of the downsides of being Oliver Queen.

He entered the room behind Diggle with his mother. He let go of his mother’s arm as she stepped aside to converse with her fellow business acquaintances and philanthropists. Oliver was sure that if he had to look them up, he would be able to find at least half of the people inside the room on his father’s book. However, he wasn’t there on Arrow business, so he clenched his fists, took deep breaths and faked a smile. It wasn’t long before Malcolm Merlyn found him and started a conversation, with the participation of a reluctant Tommy.

Oliver mostly ignored what the older Merlyn was saying and focused on his friend instead. Tommy looked tense. Oliver knew he was still angry with him. Tommy probably preferred to be at home with Laurel instead of being there in the same place as him, but then he noticed actually Tommy wasn’t tense because of him. He was tense because of his father. He seemed to be zoning out the older Merlyn, just like Oliver was, and instead was looking at the people around them. Oliver didn’t know what was going on between the father and son and he wanted to find out what the situation was. He wished Felicity was there with him. She would be able to decipher the tension. He could at least talk to her.

Malcolm was called to the stage and Oliver stepped aside to stand next to his best friend. They glanced at each other when the other wasn’t looking, but neither of them said a thing. Malcolm made his speech, talking about his humanitarian activities, the work he was doing to help the city develop get to a better state, how he was planning to donate some of his welfare to the poor of the city. He was advertising sustainable economic growth for the future of the city and Oliver stopped listening. He knew that it was all lies. He longed for his arrow. All he could do was to stand and watch as Malcolm lied.

Just before Malcolm finished his speech, a single gunshot was heard. Oliver reacted on instinct and pulled his friend down on the floor. He scanned the room for his mother and saw her standing right in front of the stage, in the general direction of the bullets. After nodding at Tommy and coming to a silent agreement with him, Oliver ran towards where his mother was at, cutting through the panicked crowd. He pulled her mother along with him and rushed her towards the exit where Diggle was, where he knew she would be safe.

Oliver returned to the room and looked around. Tommy and Malcolm Merlyn were nowhere to be seen. He remembered that the building had a penthouse that Malcolm used, a room that was supposed to have its own panic room. He didn’t know how he remembered the particular detail, but as he ran up the stairs, he had images of Tommy talking about how cool it was that his family owned a panic room and how great of a location it would be for parties.

Pieces of glass was on the floor. Oliver rushed inside, shattered glass crunching under his feet and looked around. The window he assumed was bulletproof had been blasted and there were drops of blood on the floor, trailing to a wall. He walked to the wall and realized that the paneling hid a secret door, probably the door of the panic room. He scanned his surroundings and saw that one of the paintings was crooked. With careful movements, he lifted the painting and found a keypad behind it. To his luck, four of the numbers had bloody fingerprints on them. He knew his mathematical skills weren’t strong enough to even calculate the possible combinations, but he was able to differentiate the discoloring of the blood. The darkest smear of blood was the first number.

His second attempt slid the panel to the left and Oliver walked over to see his friend kneeling on the floor with his father lying with his head over Tommy’s knees, blood pooling underneath him. Tommy’s hands were stained with blood and he had tears in his eyes.

Without a second thought, Oliver rushed to their sides to examine the damage. Malcolm Merlyn was shot but he was wearing kevlar. Two very large bullets were embedded into the vest. The vest had prevented any serious damage but the faint smell Oliver knew very well suggested Malcolm Merlyn was shot by Deadshot and the curare from the bullets was currently poisoning his blood.

“He’s been poisoned.” he admitted. “These bullets…” he paused. “We need to give him a blood transfusion to delay the poison from fully entering into his system. It’ll give us time. Otherwise he's going to go into shock and it's gonna be too late.”

Tommy didn’t say anything, he just looked at his father, then over to Oliver and nodded. “Do whatever’s necessary.” His voice came in a whisper.

Oliver rushed back to the penthouse and searched for a first-aid kit. He was able to find one and rummaged inside to find two needles and a tube. He came back into the panic room to where Tommy and Malcolm were. He put a hand on Tommy’s wrist to focus him, to ask his permission to start the transfusion but Tommy shook his head.

“We don’t have the same blood type.” he said, to Oliver’s surprise.

“I’m a universal donor, I’ll do it.” Oliver commented. “Hold his arm out.” he instructed. With the pair of scissors he found in the kit, he cut the tube and stuck the plastic of the needle inside the tube, then stuck the needle into his axillary vein. Ignoring the pain, he waited for the blood to flow, a few drops of his own blood hitting the floor, before establishing vascular access for the elder Merlyn. “Have you called 911?” he asked Tommy as he pumped his fist to make sure his blood coursed into Malcolm’s.

“Yes.” Tommy nodded. At that exact time, Malcolm gasped and opened his eyes. “Dad?” he called out to him. “You’re okay. Help is on the way.”

Oliver was feeling weak when he walked over to his mother waiting nearby the ambulance. EMTs were getting Malcolm into the ambulance, with Tommy climbing up in as well. His mother ran to him, wrapping him in her arms, cradling his neck with her hands. “I was so worried about you.” she whispered as Oliver placed his head over her shoulder. Despite what he thought about her, despite knowing what she was up to with Malcolm Merlyn, Oliver couldn’t resist the hug. After spending five years without his family, deprived of any kind of emotional connection, his instincts yearned for the physicality.

“I’m okay.” Oliver whispered. “We figured out he was poisoned, I gave him blood. He’s gonna be fine.”

Still in his mother’s arms, Oliver looked up and saw Diggle standing guard and giving him a questioning look. Oliver could only look at him, not knowing what to say. Deadshot was back. He had made a promise to Diggle and he was keen on keeping it. He needed to plan. He couldn’t just go after Floyd Newton now with his blood sugar low, his legs almost shaky. They needed to figure out why Deadshot went after Merlyn and then strategize over his next move. It needed to wait.

“Mom, I’m fine.” Oliver said and reluctantly broke the hug. “I need to go to the club to make sure everything’s running smoothly. Tommy won’t be back for a while with everything that's happened.” he explained.

“Okay.” Moira complied and kissed his cheek. “Take Mr. Diggle with you, I’ll worry otherwise.”

After making sure his mother got into the car and giving the instruction to the driver to take her to the mansion, Oliver walked to Digg with his head down. Before he could say anything, John spoke.

“It’s Deadshot, right? He is back.”

Oliver nodded. “I’ll find him and I’ll kill him, Diggle. I promised you.”

Diggle gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Not tonight, I hope.” he said. “You look like shit.”

“Thank you.” Oliver smiled at his honesty. “I’ll go to the lair, rest for a bit.”

“Why don’t you go home and sleep in a real bed, like normal people?” Diggle asked.

Oliver sighed. Diggle had a point, but he didn’t want to go home and have Thea worry for him and have his mom try to ask him questions. “I can’t sleep in that bed. The mattress is… so soft.” he answered, which was the truth. For the last five years, he had slept over mud, on rocks, over riverbeds. The bed in his room, despite its high-count threaded sheets and orthopedic mattress, wasn’t comfortable at all for him. He preferred to sleep in the large cot he had brought down to the lair.

“I get that.” Diggle commented. “It took me the longest time to get used to sleeping in a real bed after coming back.” he explained. “The uncomfortableness somehow comforts you better.”

He appreciated Diggle’s sentiment, but didn’t make a comment and followed him to the car. His mind was preoccupied as Diggle drove him to the foundry. He had saved the man who had plans to destroy the city he had sworn to protect, he had given him his own blood. He had no idea what role his mother was playing in Malcolm’s plans but he knew she was involved as Malcolm’s accomplice. Diggle’s brother’s murderer was alive and at large and he had no idea how to find him and kill him, as he had promised. He was too tired. His body temperature was low, which he reasoned was due to the blood transfusion.

He thanked Diggle and got out of the car. His footsteps echoed through the lair as he walked down the metal stairs, holding on to the railing tightly. He felt like the ground beneath his feet was disappearing into a void. He needed to sit. He needed to make some tea with his herbs from the island and drink it. He found some water, put a pinch of the herbs into the water and drank the concoction hungrily.

Still on shaky feet, he made his way to the cot he had placed behind the computers. He lied down on his back and placed head on top of his crossed hands. The cot, despite its harsh material and lack of proper bedding other than the gray blanket, felt more comfortable than any bed in the Queen mansion.

He closed his eyes for a moment, focused on his breathing. Then he heard it. The door upstairs. He jumped on his feet and made a move for his bow and an arrow. He held his bow, aimed it at whomever was coming down the stairs. The steps were rushed. He ran to the bottom of the stairs and dropped his bow as he saw her. Felicity ran into his arms, catching him off guard.

“Thank god you’re here.” she whispered into his chest. The night hadn’t turned out to be what he expected, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OLIVER QUEEN IS ALIVE AND SAD! This show sure loves to play with my emotions.
> 
> I am now officially a grad school student which means I have no social life and no more time to focus on this story... which is why I finished writing it! It's 33 chapters in total and I'm going to either publish a new chapter weekly whenever I have time or put it all out at once, haven't decided yet.
> 
> Please comment if you do read - and apologies if I haven't responded to your comments, rest assured that I read them all and I love the response to this story, you're all rockstars.
> 
>  
> 
> BTW - the thing about Tommy having a different blood type: I was going to make a deal about it and complex things by making Tommy not Merlyn's son (a la Thea) but then it got too confusing and I ditched that storyline, so he just happens to have his mother's blood type here. That happens because geneology.


	23. Chapter 23

| 

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

**Chapter 23**

She was convinced her patient was beyond rescuing. Felicity Smoak wasn’t one to give up on patients. She was determined, she was stubborn, she was willing to do beyond what was necessary, getting out of her comfort zone, in order to help out. The man sitting before him was a lost cause with no point of return. She was giving up.

Ever since he was rescued by the man in the hood, The Arrow as he preferred to call him, Oliver Queen was all Ed Jacobson talked about; granted he didn’t know Oliver and The Arrow were the same person, like Felicity did. He didn’t sound like he was interested in learning about the vigilante’s identity, though. He was obsessed with the vigilante, making her use a term she didn’t like and a condition she didn’t like to diagnose.

After spending at least three sessions a week with him in the last eight months, obsessive was all she could call Ed Jacobson. He was in his mid-thirties, unemployed and had a ruggedly handsome quality about him that he himself didn’t realize. He had lost his job years ago in the Queen steel factory where he had been a supervisor after the factory was shut down and outsourced to China. He had been in and out of jobs after that, until almost a year ago when he had an episode at a job and almost punched his own supervisor to death. The attacked man had just come out of the hospital three weeks ago, Felicity knew.

Deemed unfit for work, Ed had started receiving unemployment benefits and spending his days drinking and his nights sleeping. Then one night nine months ago, while returning home from a bar one night, he had found himself in the middle of a gang fight. Fearing for his life, according to his statement, Ed sought refuge behind a dumpster while guns were being fired, but the bullets found him. He was shot in the shoulder, according to his medical records, and was left bleeding to death until Oliver came to his rescue after taking care of the gang members. He took him to safety and moments later, Ed was on his way to the hospital, with a deep appreciation for the vigilante who had just saved his life.

That appreciation would soon turn into something worse. Ed would start collecting articles about The Hood, would visit crime scenes where he had showed up, would turn one corner of his small apartment to a shrine to the vigilante who had saved his life. Months later Felicity would learn that Ed actually had a tattoo of the sketch of The Hood on his back which she found quite disturbing. She constantly wondered what Oliver would think of that, but given the patient-doctor confidentiality, she kept that to herself.

Now Ed was sitting before her, on the lounger, talking about how he now had proof as to the vigilante’s identity that he was soon going to find him and thank him and wasn’t going to let anyone stop him. He had his plans which he refused to share. The look on his face scared Felicity. It was unnerving. She had had sessions with people who had done damage to themselves and to others, but being in that room with him, it was the first time in her career that Felicity was scared of a patient.

“Ed.” She cleared her throat. “I’m asking you to stop. As much as it is fun to learn more about the vigilante, I think it’s enough. This isn’t good for you.”

In an unexpected move, Ed jumped to his feet. “I’m sorry I’m boring you with my talk, doc. I thought this was what I paying you for.” he said, walking over to her desk. “You’re supposed to help me.”

“Not when you ignore me and continue following the vigilante.” Felicity responded. “I told you, he’s a dangerous criminal. You’re going to get hurt.” she repeated for what seemed to be the hundredth time. She had been warning Ed against the Arrow not because she thought Oliver was dangerous but because being around him called for danger. Despite how hard Oliver tried not to cause any harm and tried saving the innocent, he was being hunted by the police and other criminals. People in his vicinity were likely to get hurt. She didn’t want Ed to be hurt because of that. She was also doing Oliver a favor by trying to prevent him getting stalked by a civilian. “Ed. I want you to stop following the Hood.”

“The Arrow.” he corrected her, leaning over her desk.

“Stop following him or else I’ll have to stop our sessions.”

“I thought you were different.” Ed started shouting, slamming his fists on her desk. Felicity jumped in her seat. “I thought you were helping me. You’re just the same, as the rest of them.”

“Ed, get out before I call the police.” She controlled her voice, getting on her feet. “Leave, now.”

Ed started laughing, then nodded. He grabbed his coat from the lounger, opened the door and left. Eleanor rushed into the room, her eyes wide, her face pale. “Dr. Smoak, do you want me to call the police?” she muttered.

“It’s fine Eleanor.” she responded, letting out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Call his sponsors and tell them that we are canceling his sessions. If they don’t oblige, tell them they’re lucky we aren’t calling the cops on him.” She got on her feet. “Go home. I’m going to do the same thing.”

She left minutes after Eleanor did. She needed a lot of ice-cream to process everything. She could still feel her blood boiling, she needed to relax. She didn’t want to be scared, she wanted everything to go back to normal. She was going to do some shopping to take her mind off from what just happened, then go home and take a long bath. It was the plan for the night.

She entered her townhouse holding a grocery bag in one arm and two shopping bags that held two new pairs of shoes in the other. She placed the shopping bags along with her purse on the floor then put the ice-cream in the freezer. She took off her shoes and wiggled her toes, enjoying the sensation. She went upstairs in the dark to her room and changed into her yoga pants and a sweat shirt before getting ready for the bath.

She picked up her discarded dress and stockings and brought them downstairs to the hamper inside her small laundry closet. Then she heard it. A noise. It was quiet inside her apartment, but she had heard it. She had the strangest sensation that she wasn’t alone in the house. “Oliver?” she called out, knowing his habit of showing up uninvited and unexpected. She stepped outside the closet and scanned for his familiar figure in the living room, but he wasn’t there. She took a step back and hit something hard. Someone.

She gasped and turned, only to face Ed Jacobson. She shrieked and tried to move, but he grabbed her on the shoulders. “So the Arrow is Oliver Queen, huh?” he said, his voice almost unrecognizable. “I knew it. I did follow the Arrow a couple of times here, to your townhouse. I didn’t know you lived here before though.”

Felicity took shallow breaths and tried to calm herself. His hold was strong on her shoulders, almost leaving bruises. She wanted to push him away, but he instead turned her around and wrapped his arms around her chest, holding her tight, her back against his chest. She wanted to sob, but didn’t want to give him the pleasure of hearing her crying. She was strong. She wasn’t afraid.

“I followed you several times after our sessions and you were accompanied by Oliver Queen. He was your patient, right? So funny, the richest guy in town going to the same shrink as I do. I felt special.” he started. “Then I realized you were two-timing the Arrow by banging Oliver Queen, your patient. Isn’t banging your patient against the rules? Tsk tsk tsk.” he whispered against her ear, his breath warm and sickening on her throat. “Imagine my surprise when I discovered you were banging the same person all along!”

Closing her eyes, Felicity took a deep breath and then took action. She elbowed him hard in his stomach and when he released her and started choking, she took the opportunity and kicked him in the groin. He fell down on his knees and Felicity just ran to the door grabbing her purse next to it and rushed outside, to her car. Her hands shook as she tried to get the keys in. She breathed and rubbed her palms against one another. She got inside her car, pumped the gas pedal and drove to the safest place she knew in town.

She knew it was a better idea to call him and let him know she was coming over, but then she thought about how, given the hour, he was likely to be at home with him family and instead she parked a block away from the old Queen steel factory and walked to the back door where the secret entrance was. Adrenaline was still coursing through her veins and she figured it was the adrenaline again that allowed her to push the dumpster hiding the door with ease. She entered inside and was glad to find out that Oliver hadn’t bothered to change the code he had told her when he first revealed himself to her and took her to the lair months ago. She opened the heavy door and rushed downstairs, barefoot.

Oliver was waiting her at the bottom of the stairs. She rushed to him and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him, closing her eyes, relaxing finally. She took him by surprise given how he took a cautionary step backwards. “Thank god you’re here.” she whispered into his chest, taking in his scent. All the fear she felt vanished.

“Felicity, what happened?” he asked in a calculated tone, but he still sounded worried. He didn’t put his arms around her, instead placed his hand at the back of her neck. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t…” she stuttered. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?” Oliver asked, his voice rushed. She didn’t respond. “It’s because of a patient.” he answered for her. “Okay, you don’t have to tell me. I wish you could.” he said in sincerity. “You look… scared.”

She let out a rumpled laughter, in an attempt to calm herself, stepping out from his arms. “You don’t look any better yourself.” she commented, looking up at his face. “You’re so pale. What happened?” she caressed his shoulders.

“I had to give a blood transfusion. To Malcolm Merlyn.” he answered quickly.

“What?” she asked, completely taken by surprise. “Isn’t he the guy undertaking the Undertaking?”

Oliver nodded. “He was shot and poisoned. Tommy was with him… I just couldn’t do that to Tommy, make him watch his father die. Been there, done it. Nobody should watch a parent die.”

Felicity gave him a tight-lipped smile. “So you gave instead your blood to your blood feud enemy?” she asked. “That’s very nice of you Oliver.” she commented and noticed that Oliver had difficulty standing up. “Have you eaten anything? I think your blood sugar is very low.”

“I’m fine, I just need to rest for a bit.” he insisted.

“No.” Felicity commanded. “We’re going to get some food. Come on.” she grabbed his hand. They left the foundry in silence, forgetting their troubles momentarily in each other’s presence.  
  
---


	24. Chapter 24

 

 

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

**Chapter 24**

“Pancakes with strawberries for her, with extra whipped cream.”

“Scrambled eggs with extra bacon and wheat bread, for him.” she ordered. “And two coffees. And an orange juice for him.” she added. When Oliver shifted in his seat to interfere, she stopped him. “Your blood sugar is low, you need the juice. Not that you need juice, you already have great muscles. I meant orange juice, as in the juice from squeezed oranges. Wow, it sounds disgusting when you try to explain it like that.”

They sat opposite to each other on the red vinyl seats of Felicity’s second favorite diner in the city. It was late, they were the only customers in the place. Both were tired, with the events of their respective days settling in their bones. Eating breakfast at midnight seemed to be the cure.

“You’re not going to tell me what happened to you, are you?” Oliver asked as he took a sip from his newly arrived coffee.

Felicity shook her head. As much as she wanted to tell him to feel better herself and as much as she wanted to warn him against Ed who now knew his identity, she couldn’t breach that confidentiality. “I can’t, Oliver.” she said. “You know that.” she added and started drinking her coffee. “Just so you know, I feel so much better. Drink your orange juice, now.”

Oliver snickered, then obliged and drank the juice in one gulp. “Happy?”

She nodded. “Very much.” She thought about how normal it felt to be sitting at a diner open all night eating breakfast food with the vigilante of the city. Even for the briefest moment, she had forgotten about the terror she had felt just an hour ago. She was eating pancakes, having small talk, enjoying herself in her sweatshirt and yoga pants and borrowed shoes that were too big for her feet. It shouldn’t have felt like that, things were a far cry from normal. He had administered a blood transfusion himself to save the life of his enemy and she had been attacked in her own house by her patient. She needed to go to the police, he needed to talk to his best friend, but they were in no rush. As she watched Oliver eat his food with a content look on his face, his cheeks now red, in his wrinkled dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up and his jacket long discarded, she thought that maybe they were just two normal people having food together, maybe some things could be easy. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” he responded, the corners of his mouth lifted upwards. “This was a good idea.”

“Are you going to be okay with Malcolm out and abound? I mean, I don’t think it was your plan to save his life when you were pretty keen on eliminating him before he caused any trouble.” she asked. “At least that’s what you told me on the phone the other day.”

Their food arrived. Oliver picked up a piece of bacon. “I’m not really happy about it, but he happens to be my best friend’s father. I need to come up with another plan.”

She spread the whipped cream all over pancakes and cut a piece. “Maybe you can talk to Tommy about it, explain to him?” she suggested.

“Tommy isn’t even talking to me.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s bound to change after what you did for him and his father tonight.” she told him. “You saved his dad’s life before his own eyes, with your sweat and blood, literally. That should win you some brownie points. Not literal ones, I don’t think you eat brownies, do you?” she shook her head. “You don’t have to answer that, it was rhetorical.”

Oliver smiled at that. “I’ll take your word for that. You happen to be right most of the time.” he commented.

Felicity could feel his eyes on her. She knew very well that he wanted to know what had happened to her, that there was a chance that he felt responsible for whatever had taken place even if he had no idea about it, that there was a part of him that really wanted to push her to learn the truth, but she also knew that he was restraining himself, something that he seemed to be very good at, to respect her choices. She tried her best to feign nonchalance, yet she was certain that he was able to read her as well as she could read him. They knew each other now and anticipated one another’s actions, something she couldn’t have even imagined when they first met.

“Feeling better?” Oliver asked her when she was done with her pancakes.

“Yeah, this was a good idea.” she repeated his words back to him. “I’m sorry for barging into the foundry like that. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You can always come to me, no questions asked.”

The sincerity in his voice almost brought tears to her eyes, but she refused to act on it. She was okay, she wasn’t hurt, she was with the one man she knew who could keep her safe, the one man she somehow ended up trusting the most, even more than the police. Regardless of his lies and indiscretions during their sessions, she now trusted Oliver implicitly and felt like she could talk to him about anything. And because of that, when they made it back to the foundry and Oliver gave her the cot and a gray blanket for her to sleep while he opted for a training mat he pulled next to the cot, words she had been keeping came out.

“My dad… he, um… he left my mom and I when I was four years old.” she said as she laid still on the cot that was more comfortable than it seemed. “I don’t remember much about him, but I remember how much it hurt when he left.” Her words seemed to scatter into waves through the quiet of the room. “He had a big sweet tooth, I remember that, and he was the one who got me started on putting sugar on pasta, which you find disgusting.”

She moved her head sideways and looked down on Oliver who had his hands clasped on his chest, looking up on the ceiling. His chest moved up and down as he breathed in and out and it seemed as if didn’t make a move to urge her to continue.

“I was their last attempt to salvage their marriage.” she continued. “They met in medical school and got married. Then my mom got pregnant… with my brother and had to drop out.” She sighed. “My dad continued and became a doctor and they moved to Las Vegas, where my mom still lives.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” Oliver told her, turning to his side to look up at her.

“I don’t.” she responded. “He committed suicide when he was 16. Nobody knew why. Well, now I know why, but they didn’t back then.” she took a breath. “My parents were devastated, obviously and they almost got separated, but then they found out my mom was pregnant with me.”

“Felicity.” Oliver breathed her name, she wasn’t completely sure why.

She kept on going. “So they had me, thinking the pink little blob of life would fix everything. Boy, were they wrong.” She laughed nervously. “I was able to keep them together for four years. Then he left us. He just disappeared after one night shift at the hospital. No note, no calls, nothing. My mom filed a missing report but apparently he called the police saying he wasn’t missing. He was simply leaving us.”

“Felicity, I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Oliver.” Felicity said as she laid her head on one arm. “I told you before that I wasn’t ready to share things with you, and now I am ready so I’m doing that. It’s the least I can do. I don’t need your pity.”

“I don’t pity you, Felicity.” Oliver whispered, getting into a sitting position on the mat. “I’m just sorry that you had to go through all that. Families… our families… we are born into them, not by choice, and we are burdened by their choices.” he explained, looking right into her eyes. “I want you to know that whatever experiences you had to go through, I'm glad that you did… they shaped the person that you are today.” He reached out and held her hand that was sticking out from under her head.

“Thanks. Same applies to you. I still don’t know what you went through and I’m sad that they left literal scars on you, but those experiences made you who you are now.” she responded and linked her fingers with his larger ones. “So now you know why I became a psychiatrist, I wanted to understand what led my brother to taking his own life. And you also know why I never told these things to you before. It’s not easy for me to share past experiences, despite what I do for a living. I probe and poke people into telling me about their past, but when it comes to me, I am just… I find it difficult to trust people. Past experiences, starting with my own dad, haven’t made it easier. I guess this also explains my obvious abandonment issues, and my fear of commitment. You’d expect a psychiatrist be better at taking care of her own problems, but you’d be wrong.”

Oliver smiled at her commitment, then dropped her hand. She ignored the disappointment she felt by the lack of warmth when he pulled his hand away. “We all have our problems. You’d know better.” He lied back on the mat. “If you ever need to tell someone about your day, you can tell me.” Felicity immediately recognize the words, it was the exact sentence she had told him months ago.

“Good night, Oliver.”

“Good night, Felicity.” he responded and got up to turn the main lights of the lair off, the computer screens glowing in the dark, the only illumination left in the room. Felicity shifted on the cot and lied on her back, staring at the ceiling with the cables and pipes. She listened as Oliver returned to the mat and lied down on his side.

“Oliver, are you sure you don’t want the blanket? It’s cold here.” she asked. He was in sweatpants and a t-shirt and didn’t seem to mind the cold.

“I’m fine, I’m used to it.” he responded. “There is a hoodie here somewhere if you’re cold.”

“I’m good.” she said, nestling into the blanket. She wasn’t wearing any socks so her feet were cold and she was grateful for the warmth the blanket, which seemed to be a shock blanket in reality, provided. She closed her eyes and fell asleep shortly.

She woke up disoriented, not recognizing what she was looking up at and not knowing what time it was. She reached for her glasses but was welcomed by empty air, then she remembered the events of the previous night and coming to Oliver and then going to sleep on the cot with Oliver on the floor next to her. She looked down and her blurry vision confirmed that he was no longer on the same spot as last night. She got up and tried walking to the desk with the computers where she had left her glasses on before going to sleep. She took two steps, and stumbled on something on the floor during her attempt at a third step. Out of nowhere, she felt two hands reaching to her and steadying her.

“Careful.” he said. “Here.” He handed her glasses. “Better?”

“Much better.” she smiled at him as she put her glasses on and her vision came back to clarity. He was already in a sweater and a pair of jeans, indicating that he had been up for a while. “Thanks for letting me sleep here. I don’t think I could have stayed home.”

“Did something happen at home?” Oliver asked hesitantly, unsure that she would be willing to confirm or deny it. “Did a patient do something to you at your own place?”

“Oliver…” Felicity started. She wanted him to know but she couldn’t go against her rules, so instead she opted to confirm it without giving any names away. That wouldn’t be a breach of confidentiality. “Yes, but he has a disorder, he didn’t mean to hurt me.” she confessed and watched as Oliver clenched his fists and squinted his eyes. She placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder. “Oliver, I’m fine, I promise. Nothing happened. I’ll go to the police to give a statement.” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, you know I can’t.”

Her touched seemed to relax him, even for a moment. “Just let me take you home. Please.” he pleaded. “I want to make sure you’ll be safe.”

She nodded. “Sure, I’d like that.” she agreed and picked up her purse and followed him out of the lair.


	25. Chapter 25

 

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

**Chapter 25**

He found it strange to have another person down in the lair sleeping. The lair was subterranean, too quiet and lacked decent heating. It was a good enough place to run secret operations from. It was strategically located, discreet and allowed him space to get into the mindset he needed before going on a patrol. It reminded him of the fuselage back on the island he had taken shelter in, but unlike the fuselage, it was better equipped, didn’t have rain seeping in and kept enemies away.

The lair wasn’t a habitat for living. Sure it provided shelter and an escape from the outside world. It hosted his equipment and supplies. He had had set up his cot in one corner and it was surprisingly comfortable and he had spent many nights on that cot when he was too tired or wound up to go home. Yet it wasn’t a good space to live in. Diggle simply refused to stay in the lair himself. Even at his worst, he would get himself home, be in a car or simply a taxi and would speak in a judgmental tone when he Oliver opted to stay.

Now, as he got on his feet and looked down at Felicity’s sleeping form, wrapped in his gray blanket, he realized that the lair had turned out to become something he wasn’t expecting. It brought him peace. It was a place where he didn’t need to use the personas he showed to the outside world, a place where he could forget that his best friend didn’t want to talk to him, that his mother was involved with something that was likely to endanger the city he was trying to save, that his step-father was still missing. It was a place where he could exist in the boundary between Oliver Queen and The Arrow.

He didn’t want to disturb Felicity so he got up and went to the small bathroom that was already installed when he had decided to use the basement of the foundry as his base of operations and changed his clothes. When he got out, he noticed Felicity was awake and on her feet, but then he noticed that she wasn’t wearing her glasses and he rushed to her, helping her steady herself before stumbling and falling down. He handed her glasses and watched as she squinted before putting them on. Her expressions were delightful.

When she thanked him for letting her sleep in the lair, he knew he had to get the truth out from her. She had looked scared, the first time he had seen her in such a state. She had gone undercover on a mission to an illegal casino filled with armed men, risking her life, but she had been brave and there had been no change in her disposition. Yet when she came down the stair last night, running straight into his arms, she had been shaking and pale. He never wanted to see her like that again. So he asked her, and she told him, still keeping important information to herself, but it was more than enough to worry him. He wasn’t used to being worried. Anger, hatred, annoyance, even fear, were emotions he was used to. Worrying about others, that was new.

He wanted her to go to the police. Even though he didn’t know the specifics, she had been attacked, in her own house. That was illegal. He had been doing a lot of illegal things ever since his return to Starling City, but that didn’t mean he was fine with other people committing illegal activities. Especially when they endangered her life. Whomever had attacked her needed to be found and brought to justice. There was someone at loose who could try to hurt her again. She didn’t want him to do something about it, which he was okay with. Yet he couldn’t help but think that her first thought of action should have been going to the police and not to him. In the confusion he felt after the night’s events, he hadn’t thought about it at first, agreeing to go along with her suggestion to eat. She was being stubborn and it was wrong. He couldn’t really understand her reasoning, but he also couldn’t help but feel something tugging his chest at the thought of him being the one she ran to.

He opted to ride alongside her in her tiny little car and she drove them through the wet streets of the city. It had been lightly raining when they left the diner last night, but the rain had stayed. They made splashes and the wipers worked tediously as she drove. They reached her street but there were no spots left in the vicinity of her townhouse to park the car. She started cursing, which bemused him, then decided to park a street over.

It was raining heavily and neither of them were prepared for it. She was hesitant to leave the car. He grabbed her hand and started running with her along his side. She shrieked as the cold water seeped through the cotton of her sweatshirt and when they made it to her front door a minute later, both of them were soaked to the bone.

Oliver swiped a hand through his wet hair as Felicity opened the door. He asked her to wait and entered inside himself, checking every corner and nook, looking for signs of an intruder. There were signs of a struggle right in the middle of the living room where bags of what seemed to be brand new shoes were thrown. He breathed through his nose to relax himself as he analyzed how close to danger she had been. She needed to report the crime so he didn’t touch anything to leave things as they were. It seemed that the intruder had come through her porch door and had left quickly. He needed to remind her to get better enforcements for the door and maybe a security system. When he came to the conclusion the house was clean, he invited Felicity inside.

“You’re wet, you’re going to get sick.” Felicity commented as she stepped inside and took off the shoes he had lent her and then her wet sweatshirt, leaving her with a tank top. Oliver looked at her and took in her appearance, with her wet hair cascading down her shoulders, sticking to her body, then looked away, suddenly aware of the fact that he was blatantly checking her out. “Here.” She threw him a blue towel. “Bathroom is the first door on your left upstairs. Go take a shower and leave your wet clothes before the door, I’ll put them in the dryer.”

“I’m fine, Felicity.” he argued. He thought it was strange that she seemed to be more worried about his health than her own security. When she placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head, he gave in and went upstairs after taking his shoes off.

Oliver had never been self-conscious about his body. He mostly ignored his scars, knowing that he could do nothing about them. As he stripped of his wet clothes in Felicity’s bathroom decorated with purple towels and rugs, he was nervous. He folded his jeans and sweater and laid them before the door, then made sure the door was locked and stepped inside the shower. The hot water felt great. He was tempted to use the shampoo that claimed to be organic and the body wash that smelled really like lavender, but he resisted and simply soaked himself until he felt warm all over and got out, wrapping the towel she had given earlier around his waist. Through the steam on the mirror, he looked at his reflection then his surroundings and couldn’t help but smile. He was in her house, in her bathroom, surrounded by her things, taking a shower like it was the most normal thing.

“Oliver, I left a blanket for you before the door.” He heard Felicity’s voice through the door.

He unlocked the door and stepped outside. He picked up the cream wool blanket carefully laid before the door and couldn’t help but inhale the fresh scent coming off from it. He wrapped himself with the blanket and made it downstairs.

His bare feet was met with carpet and he walked towards the sofas in the living room. He sat on the armchair he preferred whenever he visited, then looked up to see Felicity walking towards him with a towel wrapped around her hair, wearing different clothes, carrying two mugs. “10 more minutes until the dryer is done.” she announced as she stopped before him. Still looking up at her, Oliver stood up slightly and accepted the mug, then sat back down on the armchair while Felicity chose the side of the couch opposite to him. “I hope the shower knobs were easy to use. That’s one thing I hate myself, when you want to take a shower and can’t figure out how it works in an unfamiliar one. I’d like to think that mine are pretty easy and you won’t have any trouble next time. Not that I wanted to insinuate anything by that. I mean, you’re always welcome to shower here. _Mi casa es su casa_.”

“Thanks.” he replied and took a sip from the coffee.

“Thank you, for coming here to check out.” she commented. “I can actually go to bed now. Not now though, I meant tonight.”

“You sure you’ll be fine?” he asked.

“I need to report to the police so I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. I should have done that first thing, but it didn’t even crossed my mind.” She gave him a shy smile then brought the mug to her lips. Oliver couldn’t help but stare at her lips devoid of the usual lipstick. “Not sure if Detective Lance would be interested about hearing a patient attempting to attack his doctor when he has a vigilante at large, but I can be convincing.”

He laughed. “He seems pretty obsessed with the Hood, but it’s his job to make the safety of this city’s citizens his number one priority.”

“The Arrow.” Felicity suggested.

“The Arrow? Is that my new name?”

“It seems so.” she said but didn’t comment any further. Oliver wanted to ask if what had happened to her had something to do with him, but the look on Felicity’s face seemed to plead with him not to ask any further questions so he didn’t. He hoped Felicity wasn’t harmed because of him. She gathered her legs underneath herself and leaned back on the couch, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry we got soaked. The street parking situation here sometimes is ridiculous. I have a small car, it shouldn’t be this hard for me to find parking.”

“I’m aware of how small your car is.” he said with a smirk, noticing her attempt to change the subject. He went along with it. “You need something bigger.”

“Just because you’re enormous and can’t fit into compact cars doesn’t mean I have to change my car!” she exclaimed, laughing. “It’s green and it is red in color. I love it.”

“Whatever you say, Felicity.” he teased.

A beeping noise came from somewhere in the townhouse. “That’s the dryer.” Felicity said and got up. He followed her to a small closet by the stairs that hosted the washer and the dryer. She opened the dryer and warm heat hit them. She reached and grabbed his sweater, then held it up and brought it up to her neck for a second, then handed it to him. Just the image of her holding his warm sweater against her made Oliver forgot that he was naked underneath the blanket and the towel and he dropped the blanket on the floor and wore the sweater and almost was going to repeat the same action for the towel when he saw Felicity blushing as she reached and handed him his boxer briefs.

Felicity turned around and he quickly dressed, then threw the towel into the hamper basket. “Thank you, Felicity.” he said and he meant it. “I should get going.”

“It’s still raining and I drove you here.” she said. “Give me five minutes and I’ll drop you on my way to the police station.”

He nodded and she rushed upstairs. He went to the living room and picked up the mugs and brought them to the kitchen. Felicity was back in a few minutes, dressed in an ensemble resembling what she would wear during their sessions, her hair in a ponytail. She looked completely different from how she was in her yoga pants and sweatshirt, but she was still the same Felicity he had grown used to. She was beautiful. He didn’t say a thing and followed her outside the townhouse, then stood close to her as they slouched under an umbrella that didn’t really protect him against the rain and made it to her car.

“See, now all the spots are available.” Felicity commented. “They are all taken when I need one.”

He laughed and got inside the car. They didn’t talk much as she drove him back to the foundry. He couldn’t help but feel saddened by the prospect of parting from her, not knowing when he would be able to see her again given he needed to focus on Malcolm Merlyn and she had a police case and patients to take care of.

“I’ll see you later.” Felicity said as she parked by the entrance of Verdant. “Thank you so much again, Oliver.” she added. She then leaned over from her seat towards his and kissed his cheek lightly. It was only the second time, but Oliver still felt the same rush he had from the first time. His heart seemed to rattle against his ribcage. Her lips were soft and the momentary sensation of them against his cheek made him want to reach and kiss her on the lips, taking her taste, her smell in, feeling her warm breath mingling with his. He fought the urge, simply gave her a weak smile and got out.

As he watched her drove off, standing in the same spot, Oliver Queen decided that Felicity Smoak was no longer just a friend to him. He had fallen in love with her somewhere between his first lie and her second kiss on his cheek and he didn’t know what to do.


	26. Chapter 26

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

**Chapter 26**

When Ed Jacobson was caught and put behind doors in a psych ward, Felicity sighed in relief. Her stalker who had endangered her life was behind locked doors and Oliver’s secret was safe. Nobody would take the word of someone institutionalized for a mental disorder over hers. It was one less thing to think about.

She had first thought of going to Oliver instead of going to the cops when Ed Jacobson attacked her in her house. Her primary instinct should have been driving to the police station, instead she had run into Oliver’s arms. Even days later, she wasn’t still exactly sure what had prompted such an action, but she liked to think that it was because Ed knew about Oliver and Felicity didn’t want to explain that to the cops. Oliver’s secret coming out had been more important than her own security. She didn’t regret it because she had felt safer with Oliver than she would have been in a building full of policemen. And now Ed was locked up in a psychiatric ward, away from her. His secret was safe. She was safe. That was behind her now.

New in her life were the visits to the police station. Detective Lance had prioritized the apprehension of Ed Jacobson after she had offered help to interrogate some of the more difficult suspects who opted for eloquent, thought provoking questions that came from her rather than the usual means that were described to her as brute. Given their limited resources and their devotion of time and effort to catch the Arrow, she had been grateful to the Starling City Police Department for catching Ed in such a short time. She also found her time at the police station, interrogation would-be criminals interesting. Her relationship with SCPD was fruitful and kept her busy.

Maybe for the first time in her life, she was grateful for being busy because focusing on her job, her patients and SCPD the entire time left her with little time to think about Oliver. She would wake up with him on her mind then forget about him throughout the day with daily errands and sessions following one another. Ever since she had rushed into his arms in an attempt to feel safe, she had noticed a change in her feelings towards him. He had been a patient, was a good friend and now he was something more.

She wasn’t exactly sure how to catalog her feelings. She was pragmatic. She didn’t have any delusions as to think he would be willing to see her as something more than a friend. Yet, whenever the image of his face lighting up when she simply placed a peck on his cheek, it made her think that maybe whatever she was feeling towards him was mutual.

She hadn’t meant to kiss him. It wasn’t really a kiss in the first place. It wasn’t the first time, too, yes, but the first time he had almost died before her own eyes and she had been worried. Back then a friendly peck on his cheek, feeling his stubble against her lips had somewhat been an impulsive necessity just to convince herself that he was okay.

The second time though… her ability to decipher her reasoning failed her. She couldn’t figure out why she had done it. She had been attacked, her emotions were in turmoil. They had spent the night together like two normal people would. He had made her feel safe, made her laugh and then made her cheeks flush when he had stepped out of her bathroom in nothing but a towel and a blanket. So after a silent car ride, when he was about to get out of her car, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. It was meant to be a friendly thing. It wasn’t.

Her relationship with Oliver Queen had begun professionally but given his lies and her inability to give him the true help he needed, they had stopped that. Then they had become friends. Through Big Belly Burger lunches and breakfast food in her favorite diners throughout the city, she had learned more about Oliver than she could have during their sessions. He still kept things to himself most of the time, but he wasn’t pushing her away. She trusted him and she had shared things with him that she kept to herself, too.

One thing she had observed about Oliver was the fact that trust didn’t come easy with him. She couldn’t blame him though. Even though she didn’t know the full story about his five years, she had seen his scars. Those had been inflicted on him by other people. He had every right not to trust anybody. Yet she could feel that he trusted her. It had started even before they became friends, when he had saved her life then revealed himself. She didn’t take that for granted.

She trusted Oliver more than she trusted herself. She didn’t trust her own feelings. It was unprofessional of her to harbor feelings for someone who had been a patient. Regardless of their beginnings, he still led a dangerous life and she truly believed that the city needed him to save itself. She didn’t want to keep him from his mission. She had changed his mind about his methods, but she didn’t want to change him. She didn’t want to trap the hero of the city into a relationship.

She wasn’t ready for a relationship herself. She hadn’t had one in years. All the men who had entered her life left her one way or another. Her brother had left her before she was even born, her father when she was only four, a child. Her first serious boyfriend had committed suicide less than a year into their relationship because of family issues, the one boy in medical school she thought she’d marry one day had cheated on her when he had gone himself on the summer vacation to Europe they were supposed to go together. She hadn’t had a serious relationship in the last few years, using the excuse of her job. She was always opting for casual flings. She didn’t feel like she was ready to commit.

She didn’t want to think about Oliver Queen beyond the limits of the friendship they had built. He was very good-looking, something the entire city agreed on. Something she couldn’t deny. She knew the real Oliver Queen and it made him even more attractive. Others didn’t know how courageous and selfless he was. He was stubborn, something she hated most of the time. He didn’t think things through and chose to follow his impulses most of the time rather than his instincts and never admitted to being wrong. Starting with the first lie he had told straight to her face, often he made her want to shout at him, shouting that he was wrong, that he needed to let people in, that he needed to be more trusting, that he needed to let go of his blindsides. He wasn’t ready for a relationship himself, either.

She knew better than to fall for him. She was a professional, she liked to think that she was attractive and successful. Sure she had her shortcomings as a psychiatrist, given how she had been unable to help Oliver the way she was supposed to, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t open to learning.

She hated whatever she felt for him. She felt like she was back in middle school, reliving her first crush, obsessing over every word he told her, every gesture he made towards her. If he picked up the phone on first dial, it meant that he was waiting for her call. If he was the last one to hang up, it meant he cared. If he sighed her name, which was an occurrence at this point, it meant he liked saying her name out loud. She hated that he made her nervous and brought her babbling self back to life, something she had worked on for years to get rid of.

He was rich, came from a prominent family in the city, regardless of their shadiness. He had a reputation that followed him no matter how hard he tried to escape it. Before the island, everything had been given to him on a silver platter while growing up. She had suffered through destitute because her mother had student loans to pay off but no degree or money to her name and had to work two jobs. She had gone to college and medical school herself on scholarships and had graduated with honors. He had dropped out of four colleges that he had gotten in with his family’s connections. They were different.

Yet the more she talked to him, the more he opened up to her, the more time they spent together, she felt that nobody in the entire world could understand her better than Oliver Queen. Even when he failed to understand her when she constantly threw technical terms his way. He respected her, he remarked on her intelligence, he admired things about her that others didn’t see and he made sure she knew about how much he cared for their friendship.

She knew that she needed to do something to keep herself away from Oliver, for both of their sakes. So she went over her application once again, sealed the envelope and mailed the package, hoping it would help, somehow.

Their almost daily phone talks were now reduced to a couple of times during the week. She was grateful for that, too, because hearing his voice on the phone, listening to him breathe her name out loud in that way he did, a way that she hadn’t paid attention to much before, were not helping her either.

He was busy chasing after Malcolm Merlyn and his Undertaking and the new villain of the week that seemed to be a cornerstone in his life. Ever since he had made a promise to stop with the killing and going after the names mentioned in his father’s notebook, it seemed that a new bad guy stepped on the streets each day, antagonizing Oliver. Or at least that was how she felt. As a result, at least according to Diggle, Oliver was out on the streets every night, pulling longer hours, stretching himself beyond his limits, tired but vigilant. He didn’t have time for her. Another thing she was grateful for.

When Oliver asked her for lunch a couple of times during the three weeks they didn’t see each other, she was quick to find excuses. She made Eleanor answer his calls to her office, telling him that she was busy with a patient. She let his calls go to voice mail and texted him courtly in response saying she was busy and would call him back later.

So she wasn’t surprised at all when he showed up at her door one Tuesday night holding a bag of carry-out with an unsure smile. “Thought you’d be hungry.” he commented, leaning against the doorway. She didn’t respond, simply stepped aside to let him inside. “How have you been?” he asked as he followed her into the kitchen and placed the bag on the counter while she picked up plates and cutlery. “I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“I’ve been busy.” she told him as she handed him the plates and took to getting the containers out of the plastic bag. “Too many sessions. And also the police work.”

“How is that going?” he asked as he followed her to the living room.

She placed the containers on the coffee table sat down on the floor opposite to him. “Harder than I imagined it would be, to be honest.” she claimed. “It feels rewarding and I feel like they appreciate it at the station. I’ve also been trying to put a nice word in for you. For your nighttime activities. Those involving a bow and arrow, not other activities.”

“I appreciate it, but I think that ship has sailed.” he replied and she started laughing. “What?” he asked, confused.

“You were shipwrecked and just used a ship metaphor.” she explained. “It’s funny.”

He smiled and picked up one of the containers to get some noodles for his plate. “They have a task force solely focusing on catching the vigilante, I don’t think they’ll dissemble it anytime soon.”

“What did I tell you about talking about yourself in the third person?” she teased. “They’ve noticed the change in you, your new policy. I think they’re starting to trust you.”

“I owe it to you. Both the change in the policy and the good word.” he said, looking right into her eyes. Felicity looked away. “Tommy’s working me with me now.”

“What?” she asked, surprised. “When did that happen? Why didn’t you tell me? Did you take him down to the lair? Is he using your bow?”

Oliver laughed lightly. “I didn’t want to tell about it over the phone, but maybe I should have.” he started, with a smirk on his face. “That would have lessened the questions.”

“Well, I am sorry for being inquisitive. You can’t just drop a bomb like that and expect me to stay silent.” Felicity said. “When did that happen?” she asked again. “And by the way, for the record, can I just say I told you so?”

“It wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.” Oliver smiled. “Yes, you were right. After you dropped me off that day, Tommy came to the club and we talked. He told me he was grateful to me for saving his father’s life and that he wanted to help. He doesn’t go out on the field or provide technical assistance, he simply keeps appearances for me and gives an alibi if needed.”

“That’s a start.” Felicity nodded. “What about Laurel?”

Oliver sighed. “She is still conflicted about the whole idea, but I think she’s warming up to it. She actually came to see me at the QC today, saying the city needed helping and I was on the right path.” he answered. “What about you?”

“What about me?” she asked back.

“What are you thinking about this whole thing? About what I do?”

The honesty in his voice required honest feedback from her. He was looking down on his feet, unsure of what she was going to say, unsure whether he’d like what she would say. Felicity reached out and placed her hand on top of his. She took a breath. “When you first showed up on the streets, I thought you were a criminal. Then I met you and I’ve seen you, I’ve seen what you’ve been doing. You’re willing to sacrifice an awful lot to help the people of this city. Kinda makes you a hero, doesn’t it?”

“I’m not a hero Felicity.” His voice sounded broken, he refused to make eye contact. “I’ve too much blood on my hands.”

“Oliver, I don’t care about what you’ve done in the past. I don’t care about what you’ve been through on the island anymore… I mean, I do, but not in the sense you think. Those things you went through… anybody could have gone through the same things and end on the flip side of where you are standing. Instead you came back here with a mission and you’re willing to sacrifice yourself every night so that the citizens of this city can make it through the night. Yes, you were killing people, but you stopped and you’ve saved so many people. You saved my life. That makes you a hero.”

“Felicity…” he argued.

“Don’t Felicity me, Oliver. It’s the truth. You don’t value yourself. I think ever since that boat sank, you took your own life for granted and you don’t expect to make it. You expect to die any moment, but no, I refuse that. You’re important Oliver and if you die, a lot of people will be devastated. Including me.” She got on her feet, started walking around the living room to calm herself down. “I understand. I do. With the island and watching your dad kill himself, you probably expect death to come get you any second. You're just going to spend your life down in the lair, waiting to die? I can’t stand here and accept it.” She turned her back to him.

A single word was heard. “Okay.” It didn’t sound convincing at all, but it was a start.

Felicity sighed and took her seat back on the floor. It was hard to be in love with someone who thought they deserved nothing good in life, she decided.


	27. Chapter 27

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

**Chapter 27**

Oliver released his breath.

Walter was before him, before his eyes, lying on a cot not unlike the one he had down at the foundry, with hair grown on his previously bald head, sporting a shabby beard. His appearance reminded him of seeing his own reflection for the first time in months on the small, dirty mirror in the small bathroom aboard the ship belonging to the Chinese fishermen who had found him. Unlike Oliver, Walter didn’t seem to have any injuries, but his face was pale and hollow with malnourishment and lack of sunlight.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Mr. Steele.” Oliver said, his voice disguised by the synthesizer. He helped Walter on his feet and keeping his head down, helped him walk the corridors of the building he had been kept hostage in. When they arrived at the exit, he held the door open for Walter and let him outside, to where the SCPD was waiting for him and he rushed to another exit himself.

He had found Walter alive. Walter was en route to the Starling General where he would be met by his mother, the same woman who had been behind his kidnapping in the first place. Oliver clenched his fists and tried to bite down the anger bubbling in his gut at the thought of his mother’s involvement and made his way to his motorcycle.

He was still fuming when he made it to the foundry. He needed to calm down, but then Walter’s face appeared in his mind and his train of thoughts eventually led him to think about his mother’s involvement with the entire ordeal. He needed to go to the hospital himself, to make appearances, to pretend to be enthusiastic about the family reunion, yet he was angry. He decided to take it out on the wooden dummy he kept to practice endurance. When his punches broke not one but two of the slats, Oliver decided that working out his problems physically wasn’t going to help.

She picked up on first dial. “Hey, I heard the news.” she said. “Is he okay? Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah, he is okay.” he answered. “Thanks for asking. I didn’t know it was on the news already.”

“Of course it’s on the news, they ran it as breaking news while I was watching my show. They didn’t mention your involvement, which is unfair. You can’t trust the media these days, they never give credit to where credit is due.”

Oliver let out a small laugh. “I’m heading to the hospital now.” Oliver responded. He wanted to ask her to come, but he didn’t know how.

“Do you want me to come? I’m not your mother’s favorite person, but I can offer my services to Walter.” she suggested instead. Oliver felt relieved. “Pretty sure your mother has five people lined up for that, but my offer is out there.”

“I’d like that.” Oliver said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. He needed Felicity’s presence to calm him down. He didn’t want to face his mother alone knowing her involvement with everything. At least with Felicity, he could make himself focus on the more important things, like Walter’s well-being or how much he liked having Felicity around. “He is at Starling General.”

“I’ll meet you there in half an hour.” Felicity told him and hang up. He changed his clothes and dressed in a shirt and jeans. Before mounting his motorcycle, he told Diggle about his whereabouts and suggested him to take the night off.

She was sitting at one of the chairs in the lobby when he entered inside after successfully avoiding the media circus outside the hospital by keeping his head down and his hands in his pockets. Not wanting to give the media another piece of speculation about his family, he nodded at Felicity and made his way directly to the elevator, asking her silently to follow him.

Ten other people entered the elevator alongside them. Oliver stood at the back, Felicity was by the doors. He watched the back of her head, her hair in its usual ponytail, a purple scarf wrapped around her neck. As they ascended, the elevator emptied out and by sixth floor, it was only the two of them left. She turned back and stepped next to him, a look of concern and sympathy etched on her face.

“Are you injured? We’re at a hospital, we can get somebody to take a look at you. I won’t have to play doctor with you again. I mean, not that I’d mind it… not in that sense.” she said and Oliver smiled at her words, feeling better instantly. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

Oliver nodded in acknowledgement. He was bone-tired himself. “I’m fine. Thanks for coming.” he told her as the doors opened at the tenth floor, their destination. “I’ll be quick. I don’t feel like faking a smile.”

“Okay.” She placed a hand on his elbow. “I’ll be here.”

He squeezed her hand on his elbow with his other hand and left her by what seemed to be the nurse’s station and went to the room he was told Walter was at. His mother and sister were by the bed, their arms wrapped around Walter, their backs turned to Oliver. He knocked on the door and entered.

“Walter.” he started. “So good to have you back.” he walked towards the bed and held out his hand. His mother and sister broke their embrace and placed their arms around Oliver. Their faces were tear-stained but smiles were apparent. He couldn’t believe the genuineness of his mother’s.

“It’s good to be back,” Walter said, his voice sounding better than it had been when he rescued him. “son.” he added. It took Oliver by surprise. Even though he didn’t particularly feel close to the man in question, he had suffered through his absence and he had come to accept him as part of his family against his better judgment. He had taken care of his mother and sister after his father and while he himself was gone. He owed Walter a lot of things and hoped he would be able to find a way to keep him away from harm’s way in the hands of his mother.

“We’re all together again, everything is going to be alright.” his mother announced sniffling, holding Walter close again. Oliver didn’t believe a word she was saying, but for sake of keeping appearances, he smiled and hugged his sister.

He excused himself a few minutes later, mentioning his desire to leave Walter to recuperate and went back to where he had left Felicity. She was talking to two nurses animatedly with hands and other body movements. She didn’t notice him until the nurses looked at him and fell silent.

“You’re back.” she said with a smile and walked towards him. “How is he? Nurse Evelyn said he was okay physically, but his mind may not be in a good place. He was kidnapped and imprisoned against his will for almost two months. He was traumatized so he might need some help.”

“He seems okay.” he responded as they walked back to the elevator. “My mom seems pleased.”

“I don’t think she is the kind of person to shout out she had her husband kidnapped from rooftops.” she whispered, leaning in towards him as they stepped inside the elevator. “It’s going to be fine, Oliver.” she reassured him. “Walter is safe, you’re okay. You’re going to find out what your mother is doing behind closed doors. Or I suppose behind glass doors since her office has glass walls and doors?” she paused. “My point is that everything will work out. Tommy is helping you out now, you still have him. You’ve Diggle.”

The feel of her standing so close to her in a small space occupied by just the two of them brought up the feelings he had recently discovered, erasing all the anger he had been harboring towards his mother for the last few hours. “And you.” Oliver mentioned, turned to his side, looking down at her, admiring the small flush his words brought to her cheeks.

Felicity didn’t reply. Instead she looked at him and nodded with a tight smile. “I’d better be staying here.” she said when they reached the lobby floor. “I doubt you’d want to give the media circus out there something news-worthy by being seen with me. Not that you’re with me, but, you know, Oliver Queen being seen with an unfamiliar blonde, leaving a hospital? They’d use that for weeks.”

“Yeah.” Oliver agreed in a sigh. “Thanks for coming again, Felicity.” he said, turning towards her. “You’ve helped a lot.”

“I just waited by the nurse’s station, I highly doubt that counts as help.” Felicity responded, shrugging. Oliver wanted to explain how just her presence helped ease his mind, but no words came. “I’ll see you later, okay?” she placed a hand on his wrist.

Oliver nodded and watched as she seated herself at one of the armchairs in the lobby. He threw a smile in her general direction, but she didn’t see him. Popping up the collars of his jacket, he readied himself for the photographers outside and left.

Walter was released from the hospital three days later and as a Queen family tradition, his mother announced that she was going to throw a party in the mansion to celebrate his return. He thought the whole thing was ironic. Walter had been kidnapped because of his mother and now she was throwing a party for his return. Yet, as it had been his custom in the last few weeks, he just nodded and accepted whatever his mother said, forgetting the facts momentarily. He decided he was keeping his ignorance mask on for the sake of keeping his family together. They had gone through a lot, during his absence and even after his return and he didn’t want his sister to get hurt by revealing his mother’s secrets. Moira Queen wasn’t the only one in the family keeping secrets, after all.

Upon his mother’s insistence, he invited Tommy and Laurel. Tommy took the opportunity to invite his father, as well, insisting that they could observe Malcolm Merlyn and Moira Queen in a social setting and try to determine what they were up to. It was a good idea, Oliver agreed. He sure didn’t want to be alone in such a party filled with people who were probably on his father’s list and he needed all the emotional support he could get.

Felicity declined the invitation when he first brought it up. “Oliver, I sure am not your mother’s favorite person in the world and I doubt that she’d want me there. I’ll pass.”

“Felicity.” Oliver insisted. “I’m inviting you, not my mother. I’d like you to be there.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Oliver. There are going to be a lot of rich people there and I don’t like rich people. No offense, since you’re rich, too, but you aren’t like them.” She sighed. “It’s just not my scene.”

Oliver understood her reasoning. He didn’t want to be at the party for the exact same reason. Being surrounded by rich people who did nothing to help the citizens for their city, who used their fortunes to further increase their fortunes, who didn’t blink an eye to think about how their actions affected others… Oliver wanted nothing to do with it. He didn’t want to be alone at the party, even with Tommy, Laurel and Diggle, and for selfish reasons that he didn’t want to admit, he wanted Felicity with him. “Okay.” he reluctantly agreed. “The offer is out there, though, if you change your mind.” he told her before hanging up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I had a paper to finish, then was in Chicago.


	28. Chapter 28

 

 

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

**Chapter 28**

It took everything for her to keep herself from going.

It was Eleanor’s idea. She needed to celebrate, according to Eleanor. When push came to shove, Felicity would be more than willing to blame her assistant for the change in her opinion. For Felicity, celebrating good news meant treating herself to new shoes or staying in her apartment with a nice of bottle of wine, emptying her Netflix queue. It didn’t mean digging out her floor-length purple dress from the back of her closet, wearing it, putting on sparkly silver heels and curling her hair.

She had heard various things about the Queen mansion over the years but as she stood outside of it, everything she had heard seemed to pale in comparison. It was huge, for starters. The driveway seemed to continue for miles. The mansion fashioned a pristine front yard and big columns in the impressive porch… she wasn’t actually sure if the structure actually was considered a porch since it was at least six times the size of her own porch. She left her car with a valet and stepped inside through the large double doors.

The foyer was probably bigger than her townhouse. An enormous fireplace welcomed visitors upon entering and before it laid the prettiest oriental rug Felicity had seen. She didn’t want to step on it. Two staircases were on each side, leading up to an expansive stained glass overlooking everything. A small table was in the middle, hosting photos of the Queen family in fancy frames. She couldn’t help but smile at a photo of a young Oliver, probably in high school, smirking at the camera with a bad haircut from early 2000s. She twirled around, looking up at the grand chandelier, in awe of her surroundings. She didn’t hear the footsteps approaching.

“Felicity, what a surprise!” The younger Queen chimed. She was wearing a floor length black dress that hugged her curves, making her look older and more mature than she was. “Oliver didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“I wasn’t.” Felicity replied as she went in for a hug. “I changed my mind last minute.” She had met Thea only once and already had an affinity towards her.

“It’s good to have you here, this party sucks.” Thea admitted. “Too many old people and I’m not allowed to have any alcohol. How am I supposed to seem interested in conversations about stock options if I’m not buzzed?”

Felicity laughed. “You’re a minor.” she told her, then leaned in and whispered. “Find me later and I’ll get you a glass of wine. And don’t tell about this to anyone because as a doctor, I really shouldn’t be allowing a minor to drink.”

Thea smiled at her. “You’re my favorite person right now.” she told her. “Come with me, Oliver is in the main room.”

She followed the younger Queen through a corridor that led to a big room filled with people in formal wear. The room was decorated in the elegant way the rest of the house seemed to be. Even though she didn’t like Moira Queen much, Felicity had to admit the woman had taste even if it was too lavish for Felicity’s taste. She preferred neutral colors with pops of bright colors. The Queen mansion was all about dark colors, rich mahogany decorated with signature, antique pieces of furniture and trinkets complimenting one another.

Felicity stopped admiring her surroundings and eyed the crowd. The average age of the room seemed to be somewhere in 50s. Snobbish looking men and women were standing, dressed in clothes and jewelry probably more expensive than her townhouse. She faked a smile as she felt eyes on herself and took a hesitant step inside the room. Walter Steele was sitting on an armchair at the other end of the room, four people circling him. He looked tired and Felicity could see, even from a distance, that he was trying to smile through the conversation to keep up appearances, something she had seen Oliver do constantly. She could understand why Mr. Steele was doing it, she knew very well how his state of mind was. She wanted to help the man, but didn’t want to have another encounter with Moira Queen judging her skills as a psychiatrist. Trying not to be rude, Felicity looked away. Then she saw him.

His back was turned towards her, his shoulders seemed tense even from without seeing him. He was standing before Laurel who was dressed in a beautiful gold dress and a guy Felicity assumed was Tommy Merlyn given how close he was standing to Laurel. The couple was laughing at something Oliver said, both holding glasses of champagne. Felicity wanted a drink herself and looked away for a second to locate the bar, then looked back at the trio. Laurel was now looking at her and it seemed that Oliver noticed her looking somewhere in the room, because he turned around and their eyes met. A smile appeared on his face before he excused himself and walked towards her.

“Felicity.” he called out her name, the same smile apparent on his face as he stopped before him, standing tall in a well-fitting tux with a bowtie. Felicity felt herself blushing under the scrutiny of his eyes and matched his smile. “You came.”

“Yeah.” she let out and straightened herself as he went in for a peck on her cheek to greet her, which took her by surprise. She tried not to focus about how his scruff felt on her skin, how he smelled, but she failed. “Sorry, I didn’t give a heads-up.” she added as his lips left her cheek.

“It’s okay.” he replied. “Let me get you a drink. I think we have some good red wine.”

“That’d be great.”

He nodded and left her on her own in the same spot to go to the bar. Felicity clasped her hands together and looked around. A few people were looking at her, unreadable expressions on their faces. Then her eyes fell on the matron of the family. Their eyes met and Felicity felt like gulping. Excusing herself from the people she was conversing with, Moira Queen came to her.

“Ms. Smoak, I wasn’t aware that you were invited.” she said, a stony look on her face.

“Oh.” Felicity gasped. “Oliver – I mean, Mr. Queen invited me. I wasn’t going to come but he was persistent.” she tried to explain. “I don’t have to be here, I can leave. I’m aware that this is a family affair and I don’t actually know Mr. Steele.”

“Stop saying such nonsense.” Moira responded nonchalantly. “You’re already here, you might as well enjoy yourself. If your presence means so much to Oliver, I can’t stop you from being here.”

Felicity found herself nodding. Something about the woman made Felicity felt constantly like she was caught red-handed and she couldn’t even focus on what she had just said. Even as a psychiatrist, she couldn’t fully explain the reason why she made her feel so agitated, but she blamed it on the icy exterior of Moira Queen. And also on her behind-glass-doors doings.

“Thanks.” Felicity replied shyly. Just before Moira left, Oliver arrived carrying a glass of red wine for her. He handed it to her, then looked at her with concern. She could tell that he was trying to figure out the conversation between her and his mother, but he didn’t remark on it. “This is a lovely party.” Felicity commented, not particularly to anyone. She was trying to make small talk to dissipate the awkwardness. Moira Queen nodded, gave her son a look, then left the two of them alone.

“What was that about?”

Ignoring his question, Felicity sighed. The confrontation had made her agitated. “I told you, it wasn’t a good idea for me to come here.”

“No, no.” Oliver protested, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you in person.”

Felicity looked at him, then remembered that the reason she was at the party, other than Eleanor’s suggestion of celebrating, was to talk to him, as well. “Okay.”

Oliver placed a hand on the small of her back and led her outside the room. She ignored how his touch seemed to burn her where he touched, and instead followed him upstairs to a large room. It was dark and Oliver left her momentarily to turn on the lights. She was met with high ceilings with wood paneled arches mixing with dark blue walls. There was yet another chandelier illuminating the room with dark mahogany furniture. Then she noticed the theme of the room. “Don’t tell me this is your room.” Felicity commented, looking at the model yacht on top of the bookcase and the two frames featuring nautical knots.

“It’s my room.” Oliver confirmed. She started laughing. “What’s so funny?” he asked, bemused.

“It’s all very… ironic.” she tried to explain, still laughing. “Nautical theme? Really? Weren’t you shipwrecked?”

Oliver let out a laugh himself. “They kept the room as it was, from before.” he responded. “My mother is the expert when it comes to interior design, couldn’t go against her.”

“Nothing about this room represents the Oliver Queen I know.” Felicity said, turning back to look at him. “Granted I didn’t expect you to have green walls or posters of the names of the people in your list or arrows, but this wasn’t what I was expecting either. The foundry is more like you. Not this.”

“Good thing I spend more time there, then.” Oliver said, taking a step towards her.

“The foundry isn’t any better than here, Oliver.” she said. “It’s subterranean and doesn’t get any sunlight.”

“I don’t go to the foundry during the day.” Oliver responded with a light smile. “Thanks for your concern, nevertheless.”

“Of course I’m concerned.” Felicity said. “I’m your friend.” she added and couldn’t help but notice how her words changed the look on his face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked, reaching out to hold his wrist. At the back of her mind, she knew that she shouldn’t be touching him at all given they were alone in his bedroom with his large bed few steps away from them. She knew she was tempting fate and logic. Yet she wanted him to be open with her, to talk to her. She also knew that she needed to talk to him, to inform him about her big life event before anything happened.

“It’s nothing.” Oliver responded, not looking at her, but took a step closer to her. “I, uh – I wanted to talk to you about something. I need to tell you something.”

“The line forms behind me.” she joked. “I need to tell you something, too. Can I go first?” she asked.

He gave her a slight nod. “Sure.”

She took a step backwards, then walked towards the bay window overlooking the gardens. She looked outside for a moment, then looked back, at Oliver. She didn’t know how to say it, so she went for ripping the band-aid method. “I’m going to Edinburgh.” she announced.

“What?” Oliver asked, confused. He walked towards her, then stopped a couple of feet from her.

“I applied to this fellowship program at the university there. It’s like a post-doc thing. I wasn’t expecting to get in, and I wasn’t expecting to hear from them so soon, but I got in and I’m going.”

“For how long?”

“A month.” she responded but her answer sounded more like a question.

“How long have you known?” he asked, his voice very quiet.

She sighed. “I applied a few weeks ago and they called me yesterday.” she answered.

Oliver ran a hand through his hair. He seemed nervous, which wasn’t the reaction she was expecting from him. She actually didn’t know what she had expected, if she had to be honest. “Why didn’t you tell me before, when you applied?”

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to get in and I didn’t want to make a big deal of something that was unlikely to happen.” she answered.

Oliver smiled, but she could see that it was one of his fake smiles. She wished it had been a genuine one, but it wasn’t. Oliver wasn’t happy with her announcement, but was trying to support her anyways, just like a friend would. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you, Felicity.” He walked over to her and pulled her in for a hug.

Oliver wasn’t one to show affection in physical ways, she had observed. Sure, she had seen him hug his sister, but to Felicity, that was just for show, an obligation as a brother. With her, there were the rare shoulder squeezes and hand touching. A hug initiated by him… it was a completely new territory. Oliver hugged her like his life depended on it. He leaned in with his entire body weight, he wrapped his arms around her. He placed his head in the spot where her neck and shoulder met. His hands were on her bare back, his thumbs were running circles. His entire body was in action, it seemed. It felt wonderful.

She didn’t hesitate when she wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. She placed her head against his chest and breathed in his smell and couldn’t help but graze the short hair at the back of his neck with her fingernails. She was leaving. She was leaving to stay away from him. Yet there she was, in his arms, her skin burning as his large hands stroked her back. Her heart was battling against her ribcage.

“I’m going to miss you.” she ended up whispering against his chest. It was just a month and it was a self-imposed trip, but it didn’t change the truth. She had feelings for Oliver and as she stood, her body against his, in his bedroom, in his mansion, she was tempted to go down the road where those feelings led.

A humming sound came from Oliver, followed by his whisper. “I’m going to miss you, too.” He lifted his head from where it was on her shoulder and loosened his hold on her, but still kept his hands on her back. She leaned backwards, dropped her hands on his biceps, strong and muscled under her hands, and looked up at his face. She couldn’t read the feelings present on Oliver’s face. He was looking directly in her eyes as he towered over her and she felt that look was the most honest Oliver Queen had been since he had stepped into her office.

Her lips parted and for a second, her eyes were drawn to his stubble, then to his lips. The corner of his lips ticked upwards momentarily, then she noticed his face dropping, moving closer to hers very slowly. She didn’t think, she didn’t try to push him, she didn’t panic. She wanted it, the kiss and everything that would follow. His eyes bore into hers as his hands moved upwards and he stood just a few inches away from her.

A knock on the door tore them apart.

She stepped away from him as the door opened and John Diggle entered inside. “Oliver, we have a situation. It’s Merlyn.” he announced, panicked.

Oliver’s attitude changed, as if on cue. The walls he built as the Arrow were erected in seconds before her own eyes. He went on mission mode. “Make sure my mother and Thea are safe and bring the car to the front. I’ll be right there.” he commanded, his tone sounding almost mechanical.

Felicity wrapped her arms around herself as Diggle left the room. He was still the Arrow, the city still needed him, she was still leaving, they still weren’t ready for each other, for a relationship. Nothing had changed. She didn’t look at him, just nodded as he touched her shoulder. “Go, Oliver.” she said softly.

“I’ll see you later.” he responded. He stepped away from her and just as he got out of the room, their eyes met and he gave her what seemed to be a guilty smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Way to cockblock, Arrow business!! So yeah, Edinburgh... Don't hate me for it, this story was always going to lead there from the very beginning. Only 5 (albeit very long) chapters to go!
> 
> Thank you all for reading and thanks especially to Kim, Nina and Darlene! You ladies are the best.


	29. Chapter 29

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

**Chapter 29**

She sighed contently and snuggled into the bed and the source of warmth behind her. It was bright and warm, but she was in no rush to wake up. She tugged the blanket closer to her naked chest and turned the pillow to get to the cooler side. She heard an annoyed sound coming from behind her. She nudged the source of the sound with her elbow. Then she heard laughter.

“You’re not going to wake me up, no.” she mumbled, her mouth resting on her pillow, eyes still closed. “It’s too early to wake up.”

“You can’t sleep the whole morning.”

“I can, and I will.” she protested. “Watch me.”

The laughter was back. “I do love watching you, but I’d rather watch you awake.”

She smiled to herself. “Then you need to wait at least a couple of more hours.” she mumbled.

“We both know that you can’t fall asleep again after you start speaking.” The argument was valid. “Unless you’re talking about swordfish in your sleep.”

“That was one time.” she argued and opened her eyes. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?” Then she turned around in bed and her eyes met his chest, then his face. She didn’t need her glasses to see the smirk on his face. “Hi.” she mumbled.

There was the smile she loved. “Hi.”

“Don’t kiss me, I have morning breath.” she said, but he just ignored it and placed his lips on hers. “You’re in a good mood.” she observed when they pulled apart.

“I’m in a good place.” The respond came. “Your phone is ringing.”

“What?” she asked, then opened her eyes. It had been a dream. Her phone was ringing on the night table to her right. She groaned, and leaned towards the night table. She first picked up her glasses, then her phone. She put on her glasses and looked at the screen. As usual, it was Oliver video-calling her.

She had been in Edinburgh for eighteen days now. She had talked to Oliver twice almost every day during those eighteen days. The time difference was making things difficult, but they had developed a system. She would call him when he got up, which would be later in the evening for her. He would call her when she got up, usually after coming from a patrol, to ease her worries.

Being in Edinburgh was different. The city was old, filled with architectural beauties that never ceased to amaze Felicity. Even as a young child, she had always an affinity for architecture. Walking the streets of the city was an adventure. She would stumble into a building or church, despite being of another religion, that was centuries old. Historical figures she read about had visited stores she would go into. She would be amazed of their existences. There was so much history in the city, something she wasn’t used to. In Las Vegas, her hometown, everything was new and a copy of something else in the world. Here in Edinburgh, she would enjoy drinks at pubs older than Las Vegas itself, with people from the university.

She had never been to Scotland before. The only other place she had been in Europe was Italy. In Edinburgh, and everything was new and different to her. She enjoyed her time as much as she could. The university was amazing, even though it had been only two weeks, she had already learned a lot from esteemed professors and fellow psychiatrists from all over the world. She felt herself now equipped with better information and practical skills to help her patients when she returned. Being in Edinburgh was proving to be useful for her career.

She slid the screen to right to answer video call and brushed her hair with her hands while waiting to be connected. It was bright in her room, making her glad that it was a sunny day in Edinburgh, a rarity she had found out. She leaned her back against the headboard and smiled when his face appeared on the small screen.

“Hey, were you sleeping?”

She shook her head but she knew that Oliver knew she was lying. “How are you? Have you patrolled already?” she asked, her voice still groggy from sleep.

“Just got back.” he said, leaning over the camera. “Sent Diggle home. There wasn’t much going on.”

“Criminals of Starling City are taking a vacation, huh? Good for you. Or good for them?” she smiled. His image on the screen featured a slight smile, as well. “You know that video-chatting from your super-secret base of operations is not such a good idea, right? Anyone can track your IP and find your location.”

“Good thing nobody knows I’m video-chatting from my super-secret base of operations.” he teased her, which was something new. The Oliver Queen in Starling City, thousands of miles away from her, watching her on a screen was lighter and more at ease than the one she had grown to know. He attempted to flirt with her at times, not taking into consideration how her face was devoid of make-up and how she had bed hair most of the time they talked. It seemed to be easier to communicate with him through the means of technology. She had to admit, by talking to him every day, she felt less lonely.

It wasn’t a good idea, she was positive of that. She had gone on this self-imposed exile to keep herself away from Oliver, to avoid the inevitable. They had been getting closer by the day and if Arrow business hadn’t interrupted that night at the mansion, they would have kissed and maybe more. She wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. She didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who had been her patient. He was the vigilante of his city, going after the criminals every night with archaic weapons. He was nowhere near a mental state of wanting to be in a relationship himself, either. She was doing them a favor by keeping them apart, she thought. She wasn’t a big believer of absence making the heart grow fonder. She believed more in people getting over things in time. The constant dreams involving him weren’t helping her though.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“1 am here, which means it’s 11 am there. You just woke up, didn’t you?” he asked back. “Somebody is sleeping in.”

She laughed. “I think I’m still jetlagged.” she commented, suppressing a yawn. She placed the phone on her lap for a moment while she tried to gather her hair in a bun.

“You have been there for almost 3 weeks, jetlags don’t last that long.” he teased her again, reminding her of how long they'd been apart in the same sentence. “A couple of days is acceptable, three weeks is you being lazy."

“I'm not lazy, most of my classes are in the afternoon.” she protested. “I stay up during the night most days, studying.” she added. Then her mind switched to something else, something she shouldn't be thinking first thing in the morning. “How long did it take?” she asked, holding the phone back up so she was facing him.

Oliver seemed confused. “How long what took?"

“For you to arrive in Starling after being found on the island?" she clarified.

Oliver looked away from the screen, his face etched in thought. During her time away in Edinburgh, their video-chats had been about daily things. They would hang up before they would go into discussing serious things, a strategy Felicity had come up with herself to avoid bringing up the events that had taken place in the mansion. That had been the last time she had seen him in person, even if he had promised to see her later. Now she was asking about something personal to him, about his time before they met, something she hadn't done in a while.

“Four, five days, I think?” Oliver started. “The fishermen who found me, they took me to their village, to this little fishing town by the sea." He looked at the screen. She couldn't look away. “From there, I was taken to Hong Kong, to a hospital and they did their preliminary checks, then I was taken to the American embassy. I think I was in the embassy for a couple of days, for interrogation and paperwork. And I think the trip from there to Starling took about a day. It’s all mixed up in my memory. I don’t remember much, to be honest.”

She smiled. “I can only imagine how it must have been.” she nodded then noticed Oliver giving her a look she couldn’t recognize over the screen. “What?” she asked, confused about why he was looking at her in such a manner.

“You are the first person to ask me about that.” he answered, his voice low. “People usually ask me if I lived on coconuts on the island.”

“Did you?” she asked, teasingly. “You don’t have to answer that. I haven’t had my tea yet, I’m not making any sense.” she told him as she picked up the phone and got out of the bed. “Are you going home?” she asked.

“I’ll sleep here.” he responded, earning a grimace from her. “It’s too late to go to the mansion now.”

“Go get a decent night’s sleep.” she told him. “That cot is comfortable, yes, but it can’t replace a real bed. Look at this.” she said as she switched the camera to show him her bed with the white comforter, three pillows and rumbled sheets. “This is a real bed.” she explained. “Your bed looked much nicer. Not that I was checking it out or anything. I just assumed with everything so extravagant in the mansion, your bed would be one of those super fancy memory foam beds with real Egyptian cotton bed sheets. It must be wonderful to sleep in.”

“1020 thread count.” he responded in that nonchalant manner of his. He was smiling on the screen, still looking at the bed. She switched the camera back to herself. “Okay, I’ll go.” he told her. “When is your class?”

“Today’s Saturday.” she replied, taking the phone with her to the bathroom. She placed the phone and her glasses on the soap holder and washed her face as he watched. She picked up a towel to dry her face, not seeing how Oliver was examining her on the screen. She didn’t realize that she was in a white tank top and one of the straps had fallen off her shoulder. “Any plans for the weekend?” she asked as she grabbed an elastic band and put her hair in a real ponytail.

“Not much.” he answered. She noticed that he had placed his phone somewhere on the desk and now he was taking his green leather jacket with the hood off. She hadn’t noticed that he was still in his Arrow gear and now he was undressing before her. He disappeared from the screen for a moment as he, she assumed, hang the jacket on the mannequin. He came back wearing only a black Henley shirt. “I promised Thea I’d go to brunch with her tomorrow. Today, actually, it’s Saturday.” he answered. “Tommy wanted go over the inventory for Verdant on Sunday, so I have that tomorrow. How about you?” he asked picking up the phone again.

“I need to study. I’ll do that for a few hours, then I might be getting some drinks with a few people from class.” she answered as she sat on the edge of the bed. Her answer changed Oliver’s expression. He looked upset and Felicity thought that he was maybe a little jealous, which didn’t make sense to her. “I’m the youngest in that class so I don’t think it’s going to be very entertaining. Most of my classmates are in their fifties, happily married to famous mathematicians, curious to know what I’m doing here.”

He looked as if to ask a question, but he didn’t. “I hope you’ll have fun.” he said. “I’d better be going, it’s raining outside.” he told her. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

She nodded. “Okay. Be careful out there.” she told him. She smiled at him. “Have a good night.” she said and hang up.

She fell back on the bed and closed her eyes for a moment. She was thousands of miles away from Starling City, going to classes to further help with her career. She was surrounded by world-renowned professors, by new information and the prospect of exciting new things. Yet despite all that, all she could do was to think about him. The self-imposed exile she was on was supposed to have the opposite effect.

She had closed down her office temporarily for a month, had postponed all her sessions, had given Eleanor two months’ worth of her salary in advance for the short notice she had given her. She had closed down her house, left her life in Starling City behind so that she could go to Edinburgh and focus on her studies. The fellowship was important to her. She wanted to take full advantage of it and return with a refreshed approach and retuned skills so that she wouldn’t have failures like Ed Jacobson again. More importantly, so she wouldn’t have another Oliver Queen situation.

She was a professional. Harboring feelings for an ex-patient was unethical, it was something she was told in her classes and something she would tell herself every day. Yet, even though he had disappointed her, something her mentor Professor Noah Alberto had told her time and time again would ring in her mind, proving to be right: regardless of how we tried to treat the brain, the heart had a way of ignoring it and going after what it sought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 more chapters to go in what has been dubbed as 'the slowest burn'. Thank you all for your super nice comments, you are all so good to me!
> 
> So a fake out at the beginning, how much do you hate me now? I promise the next chapter will make it all better. 
> 
> Just a FYI, I've never been to Edinburgh myself but while writing this, I thought that the city - from what I've read in books and seen in movies - has a Lian Yu vibe to it weather-wise, minus landmines and psychotic killers, so Felicity being there would be like her being on her own island so that's where that idea came from if anyone was wondering.
> 
> I'm fulltimeprocrastinator on tumblr.


	30. Chapter 30

 

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

**Chapter 30**

Oliver Queen wasn’t one for routine. The idea of moving in and living a routine life with his long-time girlfriend was what had brought him aboard Queen’s Gambit with Sara in tow years ago, reshaping the course of his life in its entirety.

The island had never given him the luxury of routine. Fighting for his life day and night, seeking shelter, seeking food, being sought by enemies, every day had been different from one another. His life back in Starling City wasn’t repetitive either. He had started off on his own, now he had a partner and different enemies to fight off every day.

In the last three weeks, Oliver Queen had been living the life of routine.

He would wake up at six in the morning, have a video-chat with Felicity, go out for a run for an hour starting off from the mansion then going through the same course by running to Felicity’s townhouse, then to her office, then running to Verdant and going back to the mansion. He would have a quick breakfast consisting of scrambled egg whites for extra protein, a piece of toasted wheat bread and a glass of orange juice and would leave for Verdant on his bike at exactly eight.

He would arrive at Verdant, go down to the lair to check on his daily researches, browse the news to see what criminals were up to, then start working out. He would start with the dummy, then do some standups and pushups and finish with the salmon ladder. He would take a quick shower, get dressed and go upstairs to the club to talk with Tommy and go over Verdant business.

By noon, he’d drop by the company to check on his mother and Walter, then would go to Thea’s school to take her out for a short lunch and return back to the company, staying until the end of office hours. Afterwards, he’d return to the foundry and gear up to go out for a patrol. Upon arriving back to the lair, he would call Felicity again, waking her up from her sleep most of the time. He’d finish his day by going to the mansion to sleep.

His weekends followed a similar pattern involving more Verdant work and less QC and having his lunches at home with his family. If Diggle noticed his patterns, he didn’t say anything. For that, Oliver was grateful. Diggle had tried several times to talk to him about Felicity before and so far Oliver had managed to avoid the conversations. Yet he wanted at least one person to talk to about his feelings, since he couldn’t tell them to Felicity.

Ever since he had boarded Queen’s Gambit, death had been waiting for him around the corner. It was a tiring, time-consuming job to play hide-and-seek with death, but he had succeeded so far. He had a city to save. He had always thought that he never had time for things. With her thousands of miles away from him in Edinburgh, Oliver found too much time in his hands to think about her. During her absence, the criminals of Starling City seemed to take a break, cutting Oliver’s patrols short. The plot of Malcolm Merlyn and his mother against the city was still out there, hanging by a thread, but Oliver had been unable to find any other leads. Things were in hibernation while she was gone.

In six days Felicity would be returning from Edinburgh. He was planning to greet her at the airport, take her to her house, give her a couple of days to rest and fight off her so-called jetlag and then tell her how he felt. Then… he didn’t know. He couldn’t foresee the aftermath. Would she say no? Would their friendship end if she didn’t reciprocate? Would she tell him that she felt the same? Would they get together? Would they start dating? What were some good restaurants in town for a first date? Would she let him kiss her after the date like he imagined she would? Was her hair as soft as it looked?

Oliver didn’t know how a relationship with Felicity would work. His one night thing with Helena Bertinelli, something he hadn’t mentioned to Felicity, that had ended in catastrophe and his failed date with McKenna were the only two attempts at romance since his return to Starling. Before that, there had been Shado on the island that had ended with her demise and Laurel, a relationship he wasn’t proud of. There had been a time when he thought Laurel was the one for him. It had ended when she had mentioned moving in together, wanting him to be responsible. Instead of obliging and being happy, he had taken her sister to her death.

What she felt for Felicity was completely different from what he thought he had with Laurel. He had been young and foolish with Laurel, taking her for granted, playing with her feelings, cheating on her numerous times. The idea he had of her in his mind and his wish to return to her had helped him through many nights on the island. Yet the idea he had in his mind had turned into something warped and unreal. Things would never have worked out with Laurel now five years later, even if she wasn’t dating his best friend.

Felicity was different. He wanted to try for her, to give her what she deserved, to become the man she thought he was. What he felt for her was real. She made him happy, she made him better.

He missed her. He was in love with her.

Felicity didn’t respond to his video-call and defeated, Oliver found himself going for his run earlier than usual. He ran to her townhouse, passing through the same sleepy street. Then he noticed something. Felicity’s red car that had been parked before her townhouse was not in its spot. He remembered how proud she sounded when she told him that she was able to find a nice spot. The car was now gone. Numerous scenarios went through Oliver’s head. He checked the ground for marks and glass shards, but nothing was out of ordinary. Another car was in the spot. Had the car been hijacked? Was it insured? How was he supposed to tell her that her precious car had been stolen?

Without breaking his tempo, Oliver continued his run. He got out of the suburbs and ran to the edge of Glades, where Felicity’s office was. He turned a corner and then saw it. The red car was in front of her building.

Thoughts rushed through his head. Was she supposed to be back? Had she told him that she was coming earlier? Was someone else using her car? He couldn’t come up with answers.

He got to the building and was lucky to find the main door unlocked. Not wanting to waste time waiting for the elevator, he took the stairs, taking three steps at a time. He was out of breath when he came before her office door and knocked twice. He bended his torso, placing his hands on his thighs, trying to catch his breath. The door opened slowly. His hood had fallen off his face when he straightened up and met her eyes.

“Felicity.” Her name came out of from his mouth in a hoarse tone. He took two deep breaths, still unable to believe his eyes. She was standing before him in a summer dress that went down to her knees even though it was early in April with the chill of winter still present. Her hair was in its usual ponytail, her glasses were on, her feet were bare. She was beautiful. “You’re back.” he managed to say.

“Hi.” she responded in a shy tone and took a step backwards to let him inside. She locked the door behind him and walked to Eleanor’s desk, away from him, looking down on the floor.

“When did you come back?” he asked, his lungs finally full of air, folding his arms. He had so many questions to ask.

“Last night.” she responded quickly. “Do you want some water? Did you run up here?”

“I ran from the mansion.” he replied, standing opposite to her in the waiting area. “And I ran up the stairs.” he added. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early?”

Felicity didn’t respond. Instead, she opened the door leading to her office and leaned against her desk. “I wanted it to be a surprise.” she said in a quiet voice. “So, surprise!” she raised her hands. It brought a smile on Oliver’s face.

“I was going to pick you up from the airport.” he said, trying to hide his disappointment. Her early arrival had hindered his plans, taking him by surprise. He wasn’t complaining; he was grateful that she was back. She was back, standing before him in a beautiful purple dress with a zipper on the front, her cheeks flushed. He had seen her on a tiny screen for the last three weeks in various states of dress. She had been beautiful with bed hair and her face devoid of makeup, still in her pajamas. She had been beautiful dressed up to impress her peers.

Standing before his own eyes, in the flesh, she was the most beautiful person he had ever been in the presence of. Oliver felt his heart rate increasing and had to take off his grey hoodie off, remaining in his white shirt. He placed his hands in his pockets, trying to focus on something other than how much he wanted to walk over to her and pull her into his arms. He failed.

It took him three steps to reach her standing against the desk. He wrapped his arms around her shoulder, enveloping her, taking full advantage of their height difference. He felt her arms rising to clutch behind his back, her head resting against his chest. “I’m glad you’re back.” he whispered, leaning down to her ear.

She didn’t respond, instead she pulled him tighter to herself. Oliver closed his eyes, enjoying her warmth, hoping she wasn’t complaining about his sweaty shirt, hoping she wasn’t hearing his heart beating frantically in its place, right under her ear.

He took the opportunity of their close proximity to run his hands through her hair, something he had always wanted to do. It was as soft as he thought. He loosened his grip on her and looked down at her face, then leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. He breathed in her scent as he closed his eyes.

He felt her sigh against his chest, emitting a content sound. He opened his eyes and saw her looking up at him behind her glasses. Her mouth was slightly opened. “I missed you.” he said, his voice as low as a whisper and for a second he thought she didn't hear him.

A smile appeared on her face, causing his chest to tighten. “I missed you, too.”

Oliver couldn’t help but think how the situation they were in resembled that night in the mansion, the last time he had seen her in person. If it hadn’t been for Arrow business interrupting them, he would have kissed her then, and tell her how he felt. After they pulled apart, the moment was gone and he thought about that night every time he was in his room, while she was gone.

It had also been his plan to take her to the airport, but they had found yet another thing about Merlyn, and then her flight was moved to an earlier time. There had been too many missed opportunities. Oliver didn’t want to miss anything again.

Felicity pulled away from him abruptly and moved to the spot between her desk and the bookcase. “I’m sorry for not telling you I was coming early. I wanted to, but I didn’t know how to tell it.” she blurted out. “And you’re busy with stuff, you’d try to drop everything to come pick me up, and I didn’t want that.”

“It’s okay.” he responded, taking a step towards her. “And just so you know, I’d drop everything anytime for you, and you shouldn’t feel bad about it.”

She bit her bottom lip, making it hard for Oliver to focus on something other than how much he wanted to kiss those lips. “That night, in your room. You were going to tell me something but then I dropped on Edinburgh on you." she started. "Was it something important? I’m sorry, I should have let you talk first, but then I wanted to get it out of my chest and then Diggle came. And I didn’t ask you about it afterwards because I thought maybe you wanted to talk about it face to face and not through a screen.” she rambled off, something he had missed very much. She paused, and looked at him. She looked very nervous, and shy.

Oliver couldn’t control his legs. He took long strides and stopped before her, between the desk and the bookcase. She stood shorter than him and looked up at him. He couldn’t read her expression. He caught a glance of her looking at his lips for a moment. He took a deep breath. Now was his chance. He took her in, standing in front of him in a summer dress, not miles away in Edinburgh, but right there before him in his city. Then the words came. “I love you.” He closed his eyes, leaned down and paused when their lips were merely apart. Felicity met him halfway and brushed her lips against his.

Oliver was hesitant at first. He kissed her softly, briefly. Her lips were soft and warm, just as he had imagined. He felt her lift herself up and grab his arm, squeezing his bicep. That was his undoing. He raised his hands and cupped her jaw and kissed her, putting in all the emotions he felt for her into the kiss: love, longing, admiration, hesitation, respect. He heard her sigh contently and it brought a smile to his lips while still kissing her.

She lifted her arms and wrapped them around his shoulders, pulling him towards her. Oliver lost his footing for a moment, causing him to push Felicity against the desk. She didn’t seem to mind as she hopped on the top of the desk to accommodate. He placed his hands on her hips and leaned further.

He felt himself running out of breath. He pulled his lips away from hers and took several breaths, and listened to her as she did the same thing. He rested his forehead against hers, eyes still closed, trying to calm down his frantic heart. What were they doing? They were going too fast. He had dreamed about their eventual first kiss several times, but it had never went beyond a chaste kiss. His dreams about Felicity had never involved kissing her on her desk, losing his control. He was in love with her. He cared about her, he wanted to take things slow. He wanted to do the right thing, but as she leaned in and peppered his mouth and his jaw with small kisses, he was on the verge of giving into temptation.

“Ask me to stop.” he pleaded once, his own voice sounding different to his own ears. He needed her guidance to stop and think in a rational way. “Ask me to stop.” he pleaded once more.

Felicity kissed him instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They kissed and a dozen angels started singing. Probably. 
> 
> The first kiss was going to be a little different (and a little later!!) but then Marc Guggenheim released the deleted kiss and I loved it so much that I had to put a version of it here. Hope you all enjoyed it.
> 
> 3 more (super long) chapters to go! FYI, angst is coming. 
> 
> Thank you all for your comments


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said in the last chapter, beware, angst.

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

 

**Chapter 31**

Oliver didn’t like responding to personal inquiries. He had gone through a lot to learn firsthand through trial and error that some things were better unshared. He preferred telling lies over truths when it was necessary and avoiding giving away real accounts. He kept to himself, didn’t like to discuss his ideas, his feelings. He didn’t like sharing details about his past.

Felicity Smoak changed it all. He entered her office and the rest was history.

If he was ever asked to describe the feeling of contentment, he would answer right away in all his honesty, without any strings attached. He would describe it as sitting on the hardwood floor of her office with his back against the bookcase and his feet touching the desk as a heap of bones and muscles, spent physically but full emotionally, with the woman he was in love with sitting between his legs, her naked back against his chest, feeling every breath she was taking, the ends of her hair tickling his skin, holding the soft, gray blanket that usually was thrown on the lounger around themselves tightly.

There was no sound in the room but the distant humming of the city getting ready for the new day behind the closed windows and their hearts beating in their chests. It was everything he could ever wish for, everything he knew he didn’t deserve. He tried not to dwell on the latter part, and tried to cherish every second.

He was content, like everything in the world was right, like he didn’t have any problems, like his city, the city he swore to protect, was safe and sound. It was a foreign feeling for him. For the first time ever since he had got aboard Queen’s Gambit, he was happy in the truest form of the word. It was all thanks to her.

He held one arm tighter around her waist and raised his other arm to play with her hair. He had taken off the band that held her hair in a ponytail and enjoyed the blonde locks against her naked back. It felt wonderful and her hair was as soft as he had imagined. He craned his neck so that his jaw was settled on the curve of hers and he couldn’t help but plant small kisses on the soft skin of her neck, breathing in her scent. He noticed a hitch in her breathing pattern when he kissed one spot. It brought a smile on his face and he committed the location to memory.

They weren’t speaking, which he didn’t think was implausible given how worn out he felt. He could just sit there in the same position for the rest of the day and not mind it, at all. The fact that she wasn’t speaking was the unnatural part given how talkative she usually was. And how talkative she had been during sex, with her legs hooked around his waist, her breasts pressed against his chest, her back against the bookcase, asking for more. “That is one sturdy bookcase.” he said, amused, to break the silence.

She sighed. “Yeah.”

His eyes caught the ripped up condom package on the floor, courtesy of Felicity’s purse. He wanted to throw it away, along with the used condom next to him but he was too spent to move. He was warm, happy and content where he was and didn’t want to pull away from her. Instead he continued to press his lips against her skin, on her jaw, trailing his kisses down her pale neck, following on to her shoulder blades, noting the freckles on her pale skin. His thumb down on her waist started rubbing small circles. His calloused hands felt rough on her soft skin and he hoped she didn’t mind it.

She raised her one hand that was in her lap and ran her fingers through his hair. Her fingertips stroked his scalp, thrilling him while her other hand cupped his hand on her waist, holding tightly. He could get lost in the sensations. It was then when he heard the small sniffing noise.

“Felicity, are you crying?” he asked.

“No.” she shook her head against his body, but her voice came out as a whimper.

She was crying. He panicked, thinking of all the worst scenarios, thinking how he made her cry. “Talk to me Felicity.” He leaned forward. “What’s wrong?” he asked in a whisper, but she didn’t respond. “Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” It came out as a plea. “Please.”

She shook her head again. “No, you didn’t. I’m not hurt.” she said, but then started sobbing.

“Felicity.” He uttered out her name and started stroking her hair. “What’s wrong?” he asked again. He cocooned himself around her, trying to turn her so she would face him, but she wouldn’t let him. She had her arms wrapped around herself and was pulling her knees to her chest. Running out of options, he broke their embrace and crawled around her so that she was facing him. He pulled her towards him so that her face was down on his chest, her warm tears wetting his skin. She was shaking. He mumbled a few words of comfort, words that just came out of his mouth without thought, but she started crying harder. “Felicity. I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do. Please, talk to me.” He felt terrible for not knowing what to do.

She took some deep breaths and sniffled some more. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself. He was glad that her shaking had stopped, but he was still worried. “It’s nothing.” He heard her voice through her tears.

“Felicity, please look at me.” he whispered, placing a finger beneath her chin to tilt her head towards him.

She lifted her head but still wouldn’t look at him. Her glasses were fogged. “I can’t look at you without wanting to kiss you.” she mumbled in that shy tone of hers. He couldn’t understand how she could still be shy given how they had spent the last half an hour.

“And is that a bad thing?” he snorted, relieved for a moment. He placed a kiss on the top of her head, a tone of playfulness hidden in his voice. He couldn’t look at her without wanting to kiss her, either.

“Yes.” She sighed deeply, lifting a hand to wipe away her tears. “It’s the worst thing. We shouldn’t have done this. I told you.”

Her response caught him off guard. He wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t want to believe what she was saying. “Do you regret it?” he asked, unsure if he wanted to hear her answer. Instead of replying, she shook her head. He sighed in relief. “Then why are you crying?” he asked in a tentative voice. “Just talk to me. Please.”

“Oliver, I…” she started, lifted her head to look at him finally. “I’m leaving Starling City.” she said. “I’m moving to Edinburgh.”

“What?” he asked, crouching on the floor before her. To say he was shocked was an understatement.

“The university offered me a position and I took it.” Her lips were trembling. “I came back to pack.”

It was only then that he noticed the boxes piled up on the floor and realized the bookcase had been empty of its contents. He was conflicted. It was an important step for her career so he was happy for her, but she was leaving, leaving him behind. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, caressing her hair. She flinched under his touch and it felt like an unexpected punch to the gut. He realized that she had planned not to let him know. “Were you ever going to tell me?” he asked, defeated.

She shook her head without looking at him. “Oliver, you chase criminals with a bow and arrows. You were my patient. This can’t work.” she argued. “I went to Edinburgh to stay away from you, to avoid the inevitable. Now I’m moving there.” she paused. “I’m not ready for whatever this is. You aren’t ready, either.”

“You can’t dictate how I should feel, Felicity.” he blurted out. “I’m in love with you. I want to be with you.” He held her cold hands in his.

She was crying again. “Don’t.” she muttered. “I’m doing us a favor. You don’t need me holding you back. How did you think this was going to work?”

Anger was building up inside of him. Just ten minutes ago, he had been the happiest man alive. He had been with her, kissing her, touching her, inside of her, letting her know how much he loved her. It was everything he could have asked for. Now she was telling him she was leaving, that they couldn’t be together, that she was leaving him behind. He felt a type of anger he had never felt before. A type of anger mixed with frustration and sadness. Heartbreak.

“I don’t know, but I want to make it work. I’ll do everything.” he offered. It was the truth. “Felicity, I want to be with you.” he placed his hands on her shoulders.

She wiped her tears with the backs of her hands, removing her glasses. “I can’t. Oliver, you were my patient. You’re the vigilante of the city. You aren’t ready for a relationship.”

“Stop psychoanalyzing me Felicity.” he shouted, getting on his feet, picking his discarded boxers. “Say anything but what you think about my mental state. Don’t do that to me. I know what I am.” His voice was tense.

She looked so small wrapped around in the blanket, sitting on the floor. She tilted her head to look at him and held his gaze. “I’m sorry.” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry for everything. I was supposed to be gone before you found out.” she admitted. “I just… I couldn’t.”

“So you were just planning on coming back and packing up everything behind my back then break it to me gently on the phone that you weren’t coming back?” he asked as he sat on the couch to wear his running shorts.

“Something like that.” she answered, confirming his suspicion. She got on her feet using the edge of the desk as support, still holding the blanket. “I didn’t think it through.”

He ran his hands through his hair and scoffed. “Felicity, you think everything through.”

“Not when it comes to you.” she admitted. “Oliver, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” She looked like she was going to walk over to him, but she hesitated and instead took a step back, leaning against the desk.

Oliver stood up. “Then why didn’t you stop me when I asked you to, when I kissed you?” he asked, his voice low. He had counted on her to help him resist the temptation of being with her, but instead she had kissed him, bringing forth a passion he was trying to hide. She had tugged the ends of his shirt, asking him wordlessly to remove it. Instead of being repulsed by his scars, she had touched them one by one, then kissed his tattoos, then allowed him to unzip her dress, leaving her in a purple lace bra and white panties. She had moaned as he kissed the top of one breast and palmed the other, then helped him unhook the bra as she hooked a leg on his waist and allowed him to lift her to the edge of the lower shelf of the bookcase. She had bitten his clavicle, then placed kisses over her teeth marks. She had kissed his face, his mouth, his jaw, his neck. She had located a condom in her purse. She had helped him take his boxers off and put on the condom, almost bringing him to his release at the spot. She had told him how good it felt to have him inside her literally.

She sighed. “I couldn’t.” she started, avoiding his eyes. “I wanted it. I wanted to kiss you, wanted you to kiss me since that night in the mansion though I knew we shouldn’t. It was all I’ve been thinking of in Edinburgh. It just makes things harder now.”

Oliver grabbed his t-shirt and wore it, then put on his hoodie. Her admission had calmed him, knowing that while she had been away, she had also been thinking about that night, that she felt something for him, too. He was able to think straight, understanding her predicament. “I was on that island not by choice, away from everyone I knew and loved, lonely and cold. There were days I thought I wouldn’t be able to make it to the night. I was so lonely, then I came back and everything changed.” he said, looking at her. “I know you. You probably think I don’t, but I do. I know you crave intimacy but the very thought of it scares you. You avoid attachments. I was like that,” he paused, then added, “before you came into my life. I don’t wanna be on an island anymore.” He sighed as he pulled up the zipper of the hoodie. “Felicity, you are now creating your own island. I think it’s worse than Lian Yu ever was. You don’t need that.”

“I’m sorry.” she repeated but he knew she wasn’t sure why she was apologizing.

A glimpse of a smile appeared on his face. He walked over to her, towards the desk she was leaning against. “I love you.” he said. “My feelings aren’t going to change.” he promised. No matter what, he was sure that he would still feel the same way about her. “I know you feel something for me, too, but you don’t want to follow them, you don’t want to face them, not now. I understand your reasons. I do.” he whispered. “When you are ready, regardless of what you want, come find me. I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.” he said and placed a peck on her forehead. He took a final glance at her, then turned back and was out of her life the next moment.

He didn’t see Felicity accepting the stream of tears coming and collapsing on the floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you all hate me now??  
> I swear it'll get way better.  
> 2 more chapters to go. They are LONG.


	32. Chapter 32

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

**Chapter 32**

Edinburgh did not help.

In the six weeks she had been back in the city, now in her own house and no longer in a dorm room, she had gone through all four seasons. Most of the time, it was cold. If it wasn’t cold, it was raining. When there was no rain, it was humid. It even snowed a couple of times. It was cold nonetheless in general, regardless of the season turning into spring. She found herself longing for the general lack of bone-chilling cold of the city she left behind.

She would walk through the streets wrapped in layers and layers of thick wool, looking up, her eyes constantly searching for the skyscrapers that made up the skyline of Starling City. She had always loved and appreciated history and architecture, something she never had in her native Las Vegas, but after visiting a museum and then ten, going to all the pubs, soaking up the culture and the history, the wonderful the city did nothing for her.

Other people didn’t help either. The first new pair of lips that touched hers belonged to Edmund. She met him after a conference during her first week as an official member of the university. He was a PhD student from Manchester studying astrophysics with an interesting accent. Over glasses of wine and finger foods, they laughed and agreed on the lack of genuine female portrayals in sci-fi movies, then moved on to other subjects. Edmund was fun and a good company. He kissed her, a brief kiss on her lips, when she got up to leave after he cooked her dinner in his tiny kitchen for their first and only date and she cried herself to sleep when she got home. She felt even worse after a drunken kiss at a bar two weeks later. She felt like she was cheating over Oliver though she had no right over him. She limited her social life afterwards.

When she wasn’t at the university giving or attending lectures, she would spend her nights alone in her house, under blankets, always under blankets because she felt cold even with the heat on, reading books and studying. She wondered why she had enjoyed being in the city so much when she first came for the fellowship, but then halted her thoughts. It had been due to him.

Even though it had been her own self-imposed exile, during her fellowship, deep down she had known that her time was limited and when she returned he would be there, waiting for her. Thousands of miles away, in a different country, in a different continent, he had been with her. She remembered their video-chats that would sometimes last for an hour, messing up their sleep schedules. When she thought about her previous visit to the city, all she could remember was her video-chats with him and nothing else, not even her classes or peers.

She longed to hear his laughter, the sound traveling across the world to her ears, longed to see his face appearing on the small screen of her smart phone. She longed for him.

Edinburgh was her attempt to stay away from him so that her feelings would go away. Instead, staying away from him had confirmed a single truth. She had fallen in love with Oliver Queen. She was in love with him, she couldn’t be with him, but she missed him every day. It was that complicated and that simple.

She missed the friendship they had formed. She missed their conversations, missed the way he would look at her, his eyes lighting up, she missed getting to know him. She missed being in the foundry, missed seeing him in his Arrow gear, being proud of him as he saved lives. She missed even the occasions of patching him up when he was injured. She missed the way he smelled, the way he held her. Even though it had been a recent discovery, she missed kissing him, his lips soft and warm, his stubble tickling, his jaw strong. She didn’t want to admit it, but she missed the feeling of him inside her.

She tried not to think back about that morning in her office, but it was all she was left with. It hadn’t been her plan to see him. She had been back to pack her things, lock down her office, put things in storage and leave Starling City before he knew it. She was going to tell Oliver about the news when she was back in Edinburgh during one of their video-chats, then gradually break contact with him, allowing him to forget about her and allowing herself to be fully away from him. She was going to get Oliver assigned a proper psychiatrist and get him the real help he needed and watch him from afar as he became the hero he thought he wasn’t.

Then he had showed up at her office door and all her plans were thrown off the window.  

He had been out of breath and sweaty and real and before her and she had forgotten about being rational. She couldn’t remember the reasons why she was going back to Edinburgh and ignored the voice inside her head that warned her against throwing caution to the wind. Then she was back in his arms, reminding her of that night in the mansion and the almost kiss she constantly thought about.

She had pulled away from him then, remembering how that night had ended in a sudden flashback. There had been a reason why they had gone to his room in the first place. He had wanted to tell her something, but instead she had told her about Edinburgh and never heard about what he had to say. She stood away from him, but her curiosity had gotten the best of her and she was asking about what he had planned to say.

Hearing him tell her that he loved her was the last thing she had expected.

The Oliver Queen she had grown to know wasn’t good with expressing feelings. He was good with avoiding talking about the island and was terrible with lies. He was good at pretending to be someone he wasn’t by being the billionaire playboy to the public and being the dutiful son to his family. He was good with combat and archery skills and looking good in any type of clothing. He was a good friend and a confidant. Hearing him admitting to such a thing meant that it was a real, hidden feeling and it almost made her knees go weak.

When he had leant in for a kiss, all logic was gone.

Felicity didn’t have a good repertoire with first kisses. Her first kiss had taken place underneath the bleachers of the school’s gym when she was thirteen and her lower lip was caught in Jimmy Carson’s braces. She had ended up with a cut in her mouth, unable to eat solid food for two days. Her first high school boyfriend had broken her glasses trying to kiss her at the end of their first date and she had to spend a week without glasses because they couldn’t afford a new pair. One time a guy in medical school had stopped the kiss to promptly vomit on her shoes.

She never had had the thrilling, toe-curling, butterflies-in-the-stomach kiss. She had always thought it was a myth, until she closed the short distance between herself and Oliver and their lips touched. She wasn’t wearing any shoes and he was towering over her, so she stood on her toes and held on his biceps, then he was cupping her face with his large hands and she sighed against his mouth contently. Then she was on the desk and she couldn’t tell him to stop even when he asked her to.

Felicity Smoak had had good sex, even great sex since her first time right before she had gone to college, but everything paled in comparison to that morning in her office.

Oliver had been completely open with her. She had seen his scars before, but only through medical eyes, as fibrous tissues that replaced his normal skin, and nothing more. She hadn’t really looked at his body. When he granted her wish and took off his t-shirt, she had taken her chance. He looked so beautiful before her eyes. The scars were the evidence of the pain and suffering he had gone through on that island for years, but as she touched them, she couldn’t help but think that they helped shape him into the man he was and in a twisted way had brought him to her. She admired his body and kissed the star-shaped tattoo on his chest that she didn’t know the story of yet.  

She had smiled to herself when his hands fumbled with the zipper at the front of her dress and brought it down, leaving her in her underwear. She was used to being self-conscious about her body, but under the scrutiny of Oliver’s gaze, noticing the want in his eyes, she wasn’t feeling shy. She leaned in and kissed him yet again as his hands skimmed her waist and her dress pooled at their feet. She was running out of breath when his mouth and hands were on her breasts, then was moaning, then her back was against the bookcase, his hands on her waist holding her in place with a strong grip that somehow felt so gentle.

She had reached for her purse on the desk, pulling out that one condom she had had in her wallet, then was helping him put it on. Her legs were then wrapped around his waist and he was inside of her and Felicity had forgotten all about the reasons why she was going back to Edinburgh. She just focused on his skin against hers, his lips on her, soft sounds in her ears, the sensations in her body. It had been such a thrill, such a display of emotions and feelings and being reckless. She had had an intense orgasm, followed by his. When they were done and collapsed against each other, two naked bodies joined against a bookcase, he had kissed her softly and caressed her with such care that she had to keep herself from crying. When they had slipped on to the floor and he had taken her in his arms, she had used the opportunity of him not seeing her face to think about what they had done, what she had to tell him and then the tears came.

She halted her thoughts. She had been thinking about that morning on repeat in the last six weeks, and it didn’t help that the first-hand experiences now gave a more realistic approach to her dreams. Waking up from a dream to the disappointment of him not being next to her was something she didn’t need during the cold days of Edinburgh. She was yearning to forget about him, but was aching for him.

Her fear of abandonment was linked deeply to her inability to form attachments and it was a result of the men in her life leaving her in different stages of her life. Her brother had killed himself, her father had left her. Potential stepfathers had come and gone. Her first love had killed himself, as well.

The idea of becoming involved with someone scared Felicity. It terrified her. She hadn’t been able to lead successful romantic relations, not that she really tried in the first place. She didn’t want start something that would end up hurting her so much. She knew her heart wouldn’t be able to handle it. She wanted to protect herself from being hurt. So that was why she had left Starling City for Edinburgh, to protect her heart. If she cut her ties with Oliver before the inevitable happened and they got together, she would be hurt, but it wouldn’t hurt as much as it would be if they broke up down the road, after establishing a real relationship, after getting together. She knew Oliver, she knew that he wouldn’t hurt her on purpose, but she lacked trust. She did trust Oliver, she just didn’t trust herself. She didn’t trust her heart with anyone but herself.

So she was now in Edinburg, away from the man she loved, hurting. She hadn’t thought things through. Edinburg became her purgatory.

She sighed and turned on the TV. It was yet another morning of having woken up from a dream with the empty feeling that settled in after realizing that talking to Oliver about jellyfish had been yet another fragment of her vivid imagination.

She kept a random channel on while she went to her small kitchen to put some water in the kettle to make some tea. Then she heard it, a woman’s voice mentioning the name of the city she had left behind, along with words like earthquake, damages and casualties. Forgetting to turn on the kettle, she rushed to the TV. Her eyes focused on the images shown, taking in the words “Earthquake Hits American City” on the screen as a headline. The reporter, in a rushed tone, was talking about an earthquake about 8.8 magnitude in Richter scale that hit the city from the middle of Glades, collapsing dozens of buildings in seconds, creating chaos and havoc. Images of scared Starling City citizens running filled the screen. The reporter was talking about a power blackout for the entire city and access to Glades being cut from all around.

Tears flowed down from Felicity’s eyes. The city she had called home for years, the city she had recently left behind was in complete chaos and there was nothing she could do but watch.

The news anchor promised to update the viewers with more breaking news as the earthquake had taken place only an hour ago and not much information was available, mostly due to the blackout. It agitated Felicity even more.

She grabbed her tablet, logging into all her social media applications, trying to find the latest news about the earthquake. Despite being thousands of miles away, Starling City was still home to her and she was worried for all those she left behind.

Social media reported fires and car crashes and several buildings collapsing, but she wasn’t satisfied with the information she found. She needed to know that there weren’t many casualties and that her friends and patients were safe. All she could find was that all phone and network communications were cut with the city and people were looking for drastic measures to keep themselves and the rest of the world updated on the condition of the city.

She didn’t realize that an hour went by as she went through her applications on her tablet, trying to find any useful information she could get her hands on. She had forgotten about the TV still playing in the background when another breaking news announcement came. The face of Moira Queen appeared on the screen, making a statement in the very room Felicity had been in almost three months ago when she attended the welcome party thrown for Walter Steele. She was talking about a conspiracy and her involvement in it and Malcolm Merlyn launching an attack on Glades.

She wiped the new tears flowing down her cheeks and looked up information about Moira Queen online. Results immediately told her that there had been a man-made earthquake machine unleashed by Malcolm Merlyn to bring down the Glades, that Moira Queen was involved with the attack but had given a public statement before the attack to warn the city. The police had apprehended Moira Queen right after her announcement and was in search of Malcolm Merlyn.

She immediately thought of Oliver. He had been in pursuit of the Undertaking for months and knew Malcolm Merlyn and his mother’s involvement with it. He had been unable to find out what their plans were and she didn’t have any idea if he had been successful to figure it out in the end. She wondered if he had done something to mitigate the effects of the attack. The earthquake had taken place, the city was in chaos, so she realized he hadn’t been successful. Yet she didn’t know how he was; there wasn’t any information she could find about the involvement of the Arrow in the city.

She spent a few more hours on the internet, checking all the news sources she could find, refreshing her applications every few second to keep herself updated, but information was scarce and people were told to wait until dawn to have phone and network communications back. The waiting was killing Felicity.

Hours passed by. She forgot to eat lunch, forgot to check her email to see if one of her professors had emailed her about next week’s class, forgot all the things she was supposed to do for the day. Starling City became her top priority.

Sometime around four in the afternoon her time, news about phone lines being reconnected in Starling came on social media. She grabbed her phone and immediately called his number, international charges be damned, but it went straight to his voicemail. The automated message with the robotic voice did nothing to calm her. She tried several more times, left two emotional messages, but after an hour, there was still no response.

She then decided to take a chance with John Diggle instead and called his number. He picked it up on the third ring and she let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding when she heard his voice.

“Felicity.” His voice was firm and calm across oceans.

“John, is everything okay? Are you okay?” she asked in a rushed succession. “I heard the news, it’s terrible. Were you able to stop Merlyn?”

“Felicity, calm down.” he told her, which was ironic, given their professions. She was supposed to be the calm one, trying to calm down others. “We were late, but we stopped him in the end.”

“Is he…” she started, but couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Yes. It had to be done.” he replied, referencing to Oliver killing Merlyn. “Merlyn wasn’t going to stop otherwise. He hurt the city enough already.”

“Is there much damage?” she asked. “I saw on the news that a lot of buildings collapsed, but they aren’t giving a definite number.”

“The buildings that were in the center of the quake are grounded, but the rest of the city is okay, we stopped the machine before it caused more damage.”

She sighed. “That’s good to hear.” she blurted. “I saw that they apprehended Moira Queen.”

“Yes.” Diggle responded, but then his voice got cut for a moment and Felicity couldn’t hear what he said afterwards. “- in Iron Heights.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, still unable to bring herself to ask about Oliver. She was just assuming the worst, given everything.

“I got shot but it’s nothing. Oliver… he got injured pretty bad.” he admitted. “He had to stop Merlyn by impaling himself with his own arrow. Then he went to the Glades, in that condition and went into a collapsing building to save Tommy.”

Felicity’s hands went to her mouth. “Is he?” she asked, not knowing for sure to whom she was referring.

“They’re both fine.” Diggle replied immediately. “Tommy is at the hospital, Laurel is with him. He doesn’t know about his father.”

“What about Oliver?” she asked finally, unable to hide her concern any more.

“Felicity.” Diggle started, which worried her. “I don’t know where he is.”

“What do you mean you don’t know where he is?”

There was a pause at the end of the line. “He went to save Tommy, but he thought he couldn’t save him. I saw him get out of the building, he was devastated. With both his mother, and Tommy, he was just… I don’t remember seeing him like that. I thought he went to the foundry so I went there, but I had missed him. He apparently patched himself up and left his cell phone behind. He just disappeared.”

“Diggle, that doesn’t make any sense.” Felicity argued. “He can’t just disappear. He must be somewhere in the city.”

“He hasn’t been himself lately and after everything that happened… I tried everything, I looked everywhere, he’s gone.” he responded. He sounded defeated. Felicity could only imagine how the last twenty four hours must have been for him. “I’m tracking his credit card activities, I’ll let you know when I find something.”

“Yes, please do.” she responded and they hang up.

News about Oliver’s disappearance was disturbing for Felicity. She knew Oliver. She knew his tendency to shut down or run away when emotional turmoil was too much for him. She was afraid that he was somewhere in the city breaking down in silence, or just punishing himself through physical activity. She wanted to help him. She wanted to be there for him. She ached for him. Yet she was thousands of miles, oceans away from him, unable to anything but wait for Diggle’s call.

She wasn’t aware of how much time had passed when Diggle called her, but it was already dark in the apartment. She answered the phone at once.

“I think he is going back to the island.” Diggle announced without any ceremony.

“What?” Felicity asked, shocked. It was an extreme measure to deal with his pain, but it wasn’t implausible. “It is possible that he is seeking traumatic reenactment. How did you figure it out?” she asked.

“He took the Queen’s jet.” he told her. “The flight manifest shows that he is traveling to Nairobi at the moment, which doesn’t make any sense. I think he is forging his itinerary to cover his tracks. I wasn’t able to get a hold of the pilot, but I contacted some people at the customs in Nairobi and they’re going to inform me when he arrives. In any case, I’ll go to Hong Kong myself first thing tomorrow then arrange for a charter flight to go to that forsaken island myself.”

“I’ll come with you.” The words left her mouth at once.

The rest of the night was spent with booking flights to Hong Kong, signing off her leave from the university, arranging her back-ups for the classes she wouldn’t be able instruct and packing a bag. She didn’t know what to expect from the island, but she followed Diggle’s instructions to pack warm clothes and solid shoes and went to bed.

She was restless the entire night, fighting off nightmares. She dreamed of Oliver being trapped under the rubbles of a building, injured and bleeding out, crying out her name. She dreamed of him fighting Malcolm Merlyn and losing. She dreamed of finding him dead on the island. She dreamed of finding him and him not wanting anything to do with her, telling her that he didn’t love her anymore, telling her that she only used him for sex, that he didn’t want to be with her.

She didn’t know what she was going to do if they found Oliver, what she was going to say to convince him to go back to his city. For all she knew, he could just ask her to leave, given how they had left things, how she had left things. She didn’t have any right over him, didn’t have the right to ask him to make choices. She had been with him, then left him. She hadn’t given them a chance. She hadn’t even thought of the emotional effects her leaving might have affected him. She had been selfish and wanted to spare herself from the pain, but she had left the man she loved who loved her back, who suffered from PTSD on his own to deal with the aftermath when he needed her. She didn’t deserve him to give her a chance to convince him to go back to Starling City and help his mother’s trial, be a brother to his sister and be the hero the city sought after tragedy.

She gave up on sleep sometime before sunrise, made herself a cup of tea, a habit she had picked up in Scotland, and sat by her window, wrapped in blankets. The street lined with row houses was quiet, lights were off and the streetlights were turning off one by one as the sun made its ascend to the sky. She sighed and leaned against the wall, watching as the sun lightened everything gradually. She then noticed a figure standing beneath the streetlight. She would recognize him anywhere.

Oliver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 more chapter to go! Thank you all so much for still sticking around.  
> I told you things would get better... do you all still hate me?
> 
> Since Felicity wasn't around for the Undertaking in Starling, it took Oliver longer to figure out what was going on, but in this story-verse, he was able to kill Merlyn faster than he did in Season 1 finale so the machine didn't cause _that_ much death and destruction.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the last chapter. Thank you all for sticking around.

 

 

** **

[listen to playlist](http://8tracks.com/angelicafun/rivers-and-roads)

**Chapter 33**

On Saturdays, Felicity would go to the farmer’s market downtown, wrapped in layers, ignoring the cold and the rain that seemed to be constant even in May in Edinburgh. She would walk around, looking at fresh produce and vegetables, enjoying the occasional stands selling handcrafts. She would talk to people and for one morning, she would forget that she was miles away from everyone she knew and loved and feel like not a stranger but a part of a community. A few hours would help her get through the day. The rest of the time, she would just miss her life back in Starling City.

Having grown up in the desert, then spending most of her adult life in cities where four seasons were prevalent and where the weather in May would be warm and sunny, her body was still not accustomed to the chill in the air of an Edinburgh morning, but as she threw on her purple coat over her pajamas and rushed to the street, she didn’t even feel the cold of the early morning.

He was carrying a duffel bag in one hand and he dropped it on the sidewalk when he saw her running to him. He was alive, in Edinburg, standing under the darkened streetlight on her street and all she could think about was how worried she had been about him. She rushed to him, wrapping her arms around his body, lying her head on his chest. Oliver was alive and on her street at five in the morning.

Hesitant arms came around her back, followed by a wincing sound indicating to her that he was still in pain after his injury. They didn’t talk, just stood in silence, wrapped around each other in the quiet of the day. He was breathing, his heart was beating and it was all that mattered to her. Oliver had come to her.

She pulled away for a moment to look up at him. She hadn’t seen him in almost two months. She took her time to take the sight of him in. As she lingered on his face, she couldn’t help but notice the small gash over his eyebrow and the dark circles under his eyes. He looked tired and forlorn. Haggard. He attempted a smile as their eyes met, but she could see the grief in his eyes. She held his hands; they were cold in hers.

She processed in her mind that in the last twenty-four hours, he fought for his life and his city, saw his mother imprisoned, thought his best friend died and took an intercontinental flight just to be standing there on her street. She decided that he needed a shower, food and sleep. And somebody to listen to him. She pulled him by his still cold hand and directed him towards her house.

She smiled to herself as he leaned down to enter through the door, then took a moment to look around examine his surroundings. She eyed him as he eyed her house, taking in every detail like she knew he would. She handed him a cup of tea as he stood next to an armchair in a matter she thought as awkward, then went to her linen closet to grab some towels after motioning him to sit. “I put out some fresh towels and turned the water on, it’ll be warm by the time you get in.” she told him, motioning towards the bathroom. It was the first thing they had said to each other. They would talk, it was necessary, but first she needed him to take care of himself.

He placed the cup, now empty, on the coffee table and followed her direction in silence. He took his duffel bag with him and closed the door behind him while she picked up the cup and took it to the kitchen. She released a breath. He was in Edinburgh, in her house, in her shower. For a moment, Felicity felt like it was as if nothing had changed. She had taken him to her house and made him shower in her bathroom before. Yet everything was different.

Things had changed. Three months ago, he was the one person she trusted the most, considered a friend, was developing feelings for. Three months later, in a different country, on a different continent, she had betrayed his trust, couldn’t see herself deserving his friendship and was desperately in love with him.

She heard the water being turned off and got on her feet. A moment later, Oliver came out, wearing a dark gray shirt and jeans, drying his hair off with her purple towel. The image of him holding her colorful towel made her smile. “I’m sorry the house is cold.” she started. “It’s because the city is cold. Why would anyone need heaters in May you’d ask, but here, you might need them in summer. It’s like the city is in the southern hemisphere, it’s winter now there, you know.” she stopped herself. “I’ll prepare some food for you, then you can sleep for a while.”

Oliver looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face, then he dropped the towel on an armchair and rushed to her. He grabbed her, pulled her close. He wrapped his arms around her, tucking her under his chin. Against his chest, Felicity heard him sigh, then she gave into his hold.

“Oliver, I’m sorry for what you went through.” she whispered to him, still in the same position. She had missed his arms around herself, missed being close to him. “Digg told me all about it. You are injured. You impaled yourself on your own arrow? Are you hurt? Let me take a look at the wound.” she asked.

“You talked to Digg?” he asked as he released his hold. His voice sounded hoarse, as if he hadn’t talked in a long while. She assumed he hadn’t talked to anyone in hours.

“I did.” she replied as he took a step back. “You saved a lot of people.”

“Not everyone.” he said, his voice low, his back turned to her.

“He’s not dead, Oliver.” she told him, walking towards him. “Tommy’s alive.”

Oliver stilled. Then he turned around slowly, a look of hope mixed with shock apparent on his face. “That’s not possible. I was there. He got in to save Laurel, then he got trapped. I tried… I.” He didn’t finish his sentence.

She grabbed his hands once again. “I talked to Diggle, he said the police went in and rescued him. He is in the hospital, with Laurel. They’re safe.” she explained, hoping her words would cut through the grief and self-hatred he was going through. “You saved them. You saved your city.” She let go of his one hand and cupped his chin. “You’re a hero, Oliver Queen. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Oliver avoided her eyes and the grim look on his face remained. “I thought he was dead.” he muttered. “I didn’t know what to do. I got in to save him, then I got hit by some rubble falling down.” he said and Felicity took a sharp breath. “I was stuck under a block of concrete and all I could think about was you. The idea that I needed to see you again was what gave me the strength to free myself.” he continued. Tears formed in Felicity’s eyes at his words, but she didn’t let them fall. “I found Tommy but he was stuck. There was too much blood.”

“After you left, the police and EMT entered and rescued him.” she told him, remembering what Diggle told her, a tear making its way down her cheek finally. “He’s safe Oliver.”

“I killed his father.”

“You did what you had to do.” she reassured him, squeezing his hand, running her hand through his stubble. “He was going to wipe out Glades. You stopped him from causing further damage. You risked your life, and saved lives.” He didn’t look convinced. She wiped away the tear and cleared her throat. “Let me prepare some porridge for you. I don’t have any eggs and bacon so I can’t make you your favorite.”

Her comment brought a slight smile on his face and he let her lead him to her small kitchen. He sat down at the table while she heated up some milk and prepared the porridge for him, along with another cup of tea. Oliver finished his meal too quickly for her taste, making her worried about how hungry he must have been. She prepared a second serving and sat opposite to him and bit down her toast.

“I need to call Diggle.” She jumped to her feet. “He must be getting ready to go to the airport.”

“Why?” he asked, looking at her over his mug.

“We thought you were going to Lian Yu.” she exclaimed. “I was going to meet him in Hong Kong and then we were going to arrange a charter flight to go find you. I need to go cancel my flight, too.”

He didn’t say anything and remained seated. She could feel his eyes on her as she called Diggle and told him that Oliver was in Edinburgh, safe and sound, sitting at her kitchen table. The older man sounded relieved and instructed her to keep him updated. He also sounded happy at the prospect of not going to the island himself.

“Okay, he’s not going.” she announced as she ended the call. “Do you want some more tea?” she asked and he shook his head. “Let’s get you to bed. There is only one bed, but you need it more than I do. I did sleep some. I’ll just lie on the couch if I feel like sleeping.” she said. “And I’m sorry the house is too cold, I’ll get you some more blankets. I have like a dozen of them lying around because I’m always cold.”

“Thank you, Felicity.” he said as he stood up. He sounded genuine and a little more emotionally available than he had been when he first showed up on her street. She considered it as progress. He must have been thrilled to hear that contrary to what he believed, his best friend wasn’t dead. He still looked guilt-ridden, which worried Felicity, but knowing what he had been through and knowing how Oliver always tried to take blame for everything, she figured it was a normal reaction. She hoped that with some sleep, he’d feel better, then she’d let him talk. She still couldn’t believe that he was in her house, before her own eyes. She needed him to feel better.

He followed her to her bedroom with the twin bed. She had leased the apartment furnished and hadn’t bothered to upgrade the bed to a larger size given the lack of space and the prospect of not having to share the bed with someone else. As she examined Oliver standing in the same spot, looking at her bed, she wished she had bought a bigger bed. He was just too large to fit in.

“Go, lie down. I have some sleeping pills, if you like. They can help you fall asleep faster.” she told him as she lifted the covers and prepared the pillows. “But then again, you’re very careful with what it is that you put in your body.” she said in a teasing way, remembering that conversation and how embarrassed she had felt then even though she had asked it as his therapist.

“Felicity.” he muttered her name in that way he did, then held her hand and led her to the bed. He gently pushed her down, and got into the bed himself after making sure she was lying, never taking his eyes off her. They were so close to each other that she had to close her eyes to prevent herself from saying or doing something she’d regret. He was injured, jetlagged and upset, she was still in the process of compartmentalizing how she felt about him being in Edinburgh. Given how royally she had screwed up everything when she had tried to give into her feelings before, she was hesitant. She just needed him rested for now, everything else could wait.

Almost all the air left her lungs as he pulled the covers on top of the two of them, cocooning them, then turned on his side and laid his head on her shoulder. She snaked one arm under his neck and started stroking his hair, then held his hand with her other hand. She assumed he was uncomfortable in his position, especially with his injury, but was proved wrong when she heard his breathing slow down and become steady only moments later, indicating that he was fast asleep.

She continued playing with his hair, listening to him breathing, staring at the ceiling. She had left him at Starling City after he told him that he loved her and after they had sex. Even though he had told her that he’d wait for her, she was sure he wanted nothing to do with her. Now he was in Edinburgh after watching the city he swore to protect collapse, after killing his best friend’s father, after watching his mother apprehended. He had left his family, his partner, his mission behind and was now in bed with her.

Ever since she was old enough to be told about her brother’s suicide, Felicity had always been curious about the brain and wanted to study it, primarily to learn what had let her brother kill himself. She had learned that it was because her brother had been in the closet and had been bullied about it. Not getting any support from his parents clueless about his sexual preferences or his friends, her brother had gone into depression which led to his suicide. The knowledge she had found out on her own and didn’t share with her mother, had shaken Felicity to her core and made her ambitious to become the best psychiatrist she could and become someone her brother would be proud of.

She had wanted to learn how a brain functioned and how ideas came out of it, making everyone unique in their thoughts and actions. She wanted to learn everything and prevent what happened to her brother happen to other people. Even though she had been a successful psychiatrist helping out her patients, her latest experiences had proven to her that it was the heart, not the head, that drove people.

Her education, her profession had taught her how a heart worked: it was a muscular organ divided into four chambers, responsible for pumping blood through the blood vessels of the circulatory system. It was essential for human beings. She had studied it, held one in her hands, cut through it, learned everything about it. As she watched Oliver sleep, she realized that her studies hadn’t told her the more important things about the heart: it had its own ways of working and you could never really understand it. She didn’t know how, but Oliver Queen had made it into her heart and was unwilling to leave it. And she was unwilling to let him go.

She fell into unconscious sometime during when she was watching Oliver and when she woke up disoriented hours later, the first thing she saw through her blurry vision was Oliver’s face looking at her. She could get used to that. She realized that he had taken her glasses off when he handed them to her. “When did you wake up?” she asked as she tried to disentangle herself from him and get into a seated position on the bed. She had been expecting him to have nightmares, but he hadn’t.

“Just before you did.” he answered. It was still light in the room, indicating to her that it was probably sometime in the afternoon. She was glad that Oliver was rested. She noticed that the dark circles under his eyes were gone when she put on her glasses. He looked relatively better. He got on his feet, then held out a hand for her. “You were going to Lian Yu to find me?” he asked as they stood opposite to each other.

Still disoriented, Felicity couldn’t come up with a response and instead walked to the kitchen to heat some water. The house was still cold despite the sunny day outside. “I’m making some tea again to warm ourselves up, then we can out go to get some food.” she offered, instead of a reply.

“Felicity.” he called out her name softly to get her attention, to demand an answer to his question. “Were you really going to Lian Yu to find me?”

She looked away, then answered. “Yes.” She pulled two clean mugs from the cabinet. “I saw the news and just assumed the worst. I called your phone several times and you never answered. Then I called Diggle. I was so terrified, I couldn’t even ask about you, I didn’t want to hear the truth.” she said. “When Diggle told me you were gone… I was so worried Oliver. I know I left things in the worst possible way, but that doesn’t mean –” she paused, unsure how to continue. “I thought being here would help me.” she tried to explain. “I tried building a new life, but I just feel like an outsider. I feel like I’m betraying you. I already betrayed you. I mean, who has the best sex of her life with the man she loves and just leaves?”

The words came out from her mouth without intention and she didn’t realize what she said until she saw the shell-shocked expression Oliver had on his face. Her secret was out. She had known about it for a long while now, it was why it pained her to be in Edinburgh. She didn’t think she’d actually ever confess it to Oliver. She wasn’t sure how to follow up so she avoided his eyes and focused on the task of preparing tea.

“What’s good to eat here?” Oliver asked instead. She thought it was because he realized her distress, for which she was grateful. They would need to talk about it, talk about what she said, about what they meant to each other, but it wasn’t the time yet, especially when she was starving.

Her house was relatively close to Old Town and they walked in silence to the restaurant she had had her first real Scottish meal when she first visited the city during her fellowship. She remembered telling about the place to Oliver during their first video-chat and it brought a smile on his face when she reminded him of that fact.

Oliver didn’t seem to have an appetite and played with his food instead after taking a few bites. Felicity was worried but he assured her that he was fine, that the porridge was keeping him full. They sat in silence. Felicity was still thinking about what she had blurted out and what it meant for them. It was true, she had fallen in love with him, but the reasons why they couldn’t work out were still relevant. He was still the Arrow, for starters, but he was willing to give them a chance.

As she looked at Oliver, she couldn’t think of the validity of her own reasons. Yes, he had been her patient and it was unethical, but it had been a short relationship that had ended months ago and she wasn’t currently practicing. If she had to be honest, she had learned more personal things about him as his friend and not as his psychiatrist. It no longer felt like she was crossing a line.

She had felt that she wasn’t ready to be in a relationship, she had avoided starting one. Yet, if there was one thing she had learned during her time in Edinburgh, it was the fact that she didn’t want to be alone, not anymore and that she needed Oliver in her life in any capacity. She had run away and tried to forget of her life back in Starling City and build a new one, but it had a way of catching up with her.

They still had personal issues to deal with, their fears to face, but she knew that as long they were together, they could be able to face them together and help each other. They didn’t need to run away anymore.

Oliver’s eyes caught hers. “How is the university going?” he asked.

For a moment, everything felt like the old times, like when they would go to lunches around city, talking about mundane things. The difference was that they were on a different continent and they had feelings for each other waiting to be actualized. She took a sip from her water before answering. “It’s…” she started, drawing a blank. “It’s, you know, a university, an old one, one of the oldest ones in the world and it’s famous in my field.”

He gave her a close-mouthed, warm smile. “I know how the university is. I was asking how it is for you.”

“Oh, right.” she exclaimed. “It’s okay. I attend to lectures, both as a teacher and a student.” she explained. “It sounds better than it is.” she muttered in a rush. It was the truth. Even though what she was doing was interesting, she missed having patients and practicing instead of just focusing on the theoretical side of things. Her mind focused on his comment, about how he knew the university. She couldn’t help but ask. “How did you know where I live?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you.” he answered. “I hacked into the university’s database the week you moved here. I just… I wanted to know.”

She wasn’t expecting his admission that he’d done illegal things to find her. She didn’t think it was wrong, she knew that hacking helped his mission, but she didn’t comment on it. “Diggle said you took the family jet to Nairobi. After ignoring the fact that your family is so rich that you own your own jet, we both thought that you faked it to cover your tracks. But you’re here.”

“I’m.” he smiled. “I asked the pilot to fake the itinerary, the jet is still in the hangar. I took a commercial flight here. If Diggle had looked into my passport information, he’d have seen it.”

“I guess he isn’t as good with hacking as you’re.” she responded. “Are you still tired? You must be jetlagged. Are you sure you don’t need any medication for your injury?”

“I’m fine, Felicity. I took some of my magical island herbs, as you call them, before boarding the plane.” he said, then leaned on to the table after taking a deep breath. “I know I told you I’d wait for you, but one thing I’ve learned in the last six weeks is that I’m not a patient man.”

Felicity wasn’t ready to have that particular conversation in a room filled with strangers and plates of unfinished food in front of them. “Want to take a walk around the city?” she suggested and made a gesture for the check.

“I forgot to bring Euros.” Oliver said shyly when their waiter took the dirty dishes away and handed the bill.

“It’s fine.” Felicity said, grabbing the bill from him. She didn't correct him saying that the currency was pounds and not euros and instead threw some cash herself. She couldn’t help but be amused at the fact that someone who owned a jet was unable to pay a lunch bill, but she didn’t say anything. When they used to go to lunch, they’d usually split the check upon her insistence so it was unimportant. She had never cared about money anyways.

It was warmer outside than it had been so Felicity took off her heavy coat and held it in her arms, left in a bulky cardigan and watched as Oliver did the same thing. He was good at getting accustomed to the weather of Edinburgh, but the bits and pieces he had told her about the island made it sound like the weather on the island had been no less different than Edinburgh.

She led them through the streets of Old Town filled with the oldest buildings in the city, full of history and culture, but Oliver wasn’t paying any attention to the buildings she had spent ages looking at when she had first arrived in the city. “Have you been to Edinburgh before?” she asked, curious.

“No, first time.” Oliver shrugged.

She didn’t make a comment on how he was ignoring everything around them. She assumed it was because he was still tired or too wound up to take in the scenery. They continued walking in silence until they reached the shore by the area called Leith where she would go when she’d feel alone and sat down on a bench, looking at the water.

She was in Edinburgh, with the man she was in love with. He had left his city, his mission, his family behind and came to her first thing after going through what must have been one of the worst nights of his life. They had both crossed oceans, traveled for miles and ended up sitting on a bench next to one another. She was in love with him. She knew he loved her. She reached out and held his large hand, threading her fingers through his. He turned and looked at her. She looked at him and smiled.

“Edinburgh is nice, but not as nice as Starling City.” she admitted. “I thought I’d get used to it, but I can’t. I left too much back in Starling.”

“Maybe you can come back?” he asked, hesitantly. “With me?” he added. She didn’t respond. “This is a nice city, filled with history. Old buildings all around. But none of that interests me, Felicity.”

“I was going to ask about that. I find it weird that you aren’t even looking at the buildings. It frustrates the architecture lover in me.” she deflected his comment.

“I lived on an island for five years without any structures, no roofs over my head. Buildings are overrated.”

She smiled at his comment then. “Yes, but, don’t you find it amazing that the house I’m living in is older than most buildings back home?” she asked.

“Starling is your home?” he asked instead of answering her question, the smile on his face now larger. All the grief, all the sadness in his eyes were gone. Felicity thought it was like seeing him anew.

“It’s home.” she nodded. “My job, my house, my car, they’re all back there.” she said. “My patients. My friends.” she paused. “The people I love.” she added last.

The horn of a ship passing by broke the moment. They both looked at the ship, watching it as it passed by. It was windy at the shore so Felicity let go off his hand for moment to put her coat back on. Oliver reached and helped with the lapels, his face suddenly close to hers. Felicity pushed her glasses back and leaned against the bench.

“Oliver, I…” she started, then jumped to her feet and stood before him. “When you first showed up in my office, I didn’t think you’d become so important to me. Yes, I had tricked your family into assigning myself as your psychiatrist, but it was just…” She took a breath. “I had heard about your story from the news. Well, your face was everywhere so I’d have to be living under a rock not to hear about it and truth be told, at first I thought maybe you’d lied about the whole thing. Then you showed up and you started recapping _Lost_ to me and I realized you were a terrible liar, you couldn’t have pulled that off.” she paused, laughing to herself. “You’re such a bad liar, and a chronic one at it. It’s a terrible combination to be honest.” she paused to look at him. “Then I realized that it was all a front for you, that all the terrible lies you were telling was just to hide how shaken up you were underneath.” Oliver looked away. “I wanted to help you, I really did. I wanted to help with the pain. If I could, I’d take all the scars away. Not because they look bad or anything. If anything, they look like nice decorations on those amazing abs.” she paused again. “Okay, this is so not the right time to compliment your body, I’ll do that later on.”

“Felicity.” he said her name, but she hushed him.

“Don’t stop me, okay?” she asked and he nodded silently. “Where was I?” she thought out loud and Oliver laughed. It was a beautiful noise. “So yeah, I really wanted to help you.” she continued, going back to being serious. “I was doing such a terrible job at it, even though it’s hard for me to admit that. I’m a good psychiatrist but I was so terrible with you. Then you revealed yourself to me as the Arrow and I knew we couldn’t continue having that relationship. It’s not because I’m against you being the Arrow. I do admire what you’re trying to do for the city. The crime rates have significantly dropped, did you know that? It’s all what SCPD talks about. And you stopped Malcolm Merlyn from causing further destruction. You don’t believe me, but you’re a hero.” she crouched before him and grabbed his hands. “Anyone else who went through what you went through would have ended up doing other things, but you Oliver… you survived and came back to your city to help save it.”

“I killed a lot of people, Felicity.”

“But not anymore.” she argued. “You killed Merlyn because you had to. I wish I’d been his psychiatrist, I’d have told him that there are better ways of dealing with the death of a loved one. Can you imagine if everyone had to go and destroy cities to cope with loss?” she commented, then shrugged. “Anyways. So what I’m trying to say is this: you caught me off guard, Oliver. Somewhere between Big Belly burgers that surely gave me a big belly and late night phone talks, I just… I fell in love with you. And it scared me. It scared me so much.” she finally admitted and sat down back next to him on the bench. “It had never been like this before, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I told you I have commitment issues. I got scared.”

He was silent for a moment. “It scared me, too.” he said. “When you showed up at the lair that night, after what happened with your patient. I was so worried about you and I wasn’t used to feeling like that. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to see you like that again, that I know.” He continued. “Felicity, you know the worst things about me and you didn’t even flinch, you didn’t hesitate. You patched me up, you encouraged me, you listened to me. I fell in love with you. You saved my life, not just literally. If I’m a hero, it’s because of you.”

“That’s not a hundred percent true.” she joked.

“It is.” Oliver argued against, his voice stern.

“So you need to go back, to Starling and be the hero they need.” Felicity instructed, looking to the water again.

“I’m not leaving until you agree to come with me.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I told you I’d wait for you until you felt ready, but I don’t think I can anymore. I know you have a contract with the university -”

“It’s not a permanent position.” Felicity countered. “I’d need to give a notice, make a few phone calls and apologize to some people but it’s not a binding –“ Her words were cut with his lips against hers. They were as soft as she remembered, maybe a little colder. Felicity lost herself for a moment in the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck, enjoying his stubble on her skin. She was smiling when they pulled away; he was, too. “That was nice.” she whispered. “But stop disturbing me by saying my name in that dreamy way you do or giving me amazing kisses, okay? I need to say this.”

“Okay.” Oliver nodded with a chuckle.

Felicity smiled at him. “I’m a psychiatrist, I should have known better. I thought running away to here, to Edinburgh would help stop my feelings. Being here… it just heightened the intensity of my feelings. I thought I wasn’t ready for you, but I’m. I don’t want to run anymore, and I don’t want you to run, either.” she sighed. “I love you, I do.”

Oliver nodded again, the corners of his mouth ticked upwards, then placed a quick peck on her forehead. “So you will come back with me?” he asked, sounding out of breath. It made her heart beat faster.

“Yes.” she responded at once. Yes. She was going to leave Edinburgh and go back home, to Starling City with him. She was going to be with him. She wasn’t sure how they were going to manage, but she knew they would work on it. As long as they were together and had each other, it was possible. She loved him and he loved her. There would be no rivers, no roads, no cities, no islands keeping them apart again. They had finally reached to one another. She felt relieved. Then she got on her feet and held out her hand for him, as she remembered something. “Come on, I owe you wine.”

He looked confused as he held her hand and got on his feet, wincing in pain for a second. “Why?”

“It’s your birthday.” she admitted with a smile. “At least, it’s still your birthday according to the time in Starling City. Let’s be grateful for time zones for once. I was a little drunk at the time, but I do remember promising you wine. And you promised me - nothing expensive or vintage.”

Oliver let out a laughter. “Okay.” he agreed. They looked at each other and kissed again. They started walking towards the direction of her house. She’d call the university first thing, and then start packing her things when they get back. For the time being, she just enjoyed the sensation of holding the hand of the man she loved in a foreign city, knowing that she’d return home with him.

As they walked through the streets, Oliver was now looking at the buildings and it brought a smile on her face. She wasn’t sure when they would travel back to Starling, but she was glad to know that Oliver was taking advantage of his time in Edinburgh. They stopped by a liquor shop on their way and she let him pick a bottle of red wine, something fancy but not too pricey, and some real Scottish whisky to take to Diggle. They arrived to her house just as the sun was about to set.

He stopped her before she could unlock the door. “No more running?” he asked.

She looked up at him, right into his blue eyes and nodded. “No more running.”

 

**THE END.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this was it. Thank you all so much for reading 'Rivers and Roads'. This has been a journey for me, I really loved this story. There were times I didn't know what I was doing with it, but here it is finished in 77+K words. 
> 
> The story was always going to be about Oliver and Felicity eventually reaching to one another on the same emotional/psychological level and I'd like to think that I did that. It took way longer than I envisioned, but it happened and I left them at a good place.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and commenting and going through this journey with me. You are all amazing. 
> 
> I am pretty sure this will be the last 'epic' story I'll ever write but Arrow became my life so I'll definitely be writing more about these idiots.
> 
> P.S.: I couldn't help myself and placed references to the 2 songs I love on the playlist I made for this into this last chapter. I'm fulltimeprocrastinator on tumblr, follow me!


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